ad
also been cruelly frustrated. It stood on a table just below the
skylight, so that Harry could see it easily where he lay; but now the
sight rather added to his vexation than otherwise. Would he ever be able
to sail it before they left Kingshaven and returned to Rosehampton? It
seemed very unlikely.

Their kind friend Dr. Hammond came down at once on hearing of Harry's
illness--which was of course a great comfort, as he knew so well about
his little patient; but he only confirmed Dr. Bell's verdict, and
declared Harry must continue in the quiet quarters of "Blanket Bay," as
his mother called it. The unfortunate thing of _this_ Blanket Bay was
that it did not look to the sea, nor indeed to anything but the sky.

The days passed wonderfully, however. Harry was fond of reading, and
plenty of nice books were got for him; the younger children were, of
course, perfectly happy digging houses and castles in the sand; and
Walter did the best he could to amuse himself companionless, or with any
boys who seemed friendly and ready to play with him. He did all he could
to amuse Harry, too, by coming home with stories of all he had seen, and
would sit for hours on the bedside chatting to him, if allowed; but Mrs.
Leslie said it was very wrong to waste his holidays that way, and
generally packed him off to the shore again.

Harry Leslie knew that to Walter as well as to himself it was a great
disappointment not to see the _Rover_ floated. He thought over it many a
time, and being a kind-hearted boy in general, it did vex him not a
little that Walter also should be disappointed. But the idea of his
telling Walter to take the _Rover_ down himself to the rocks, and have
the delight of seeing it ride proudly on the waves--oh, that was too much
for Harry! If the idea ever did really present itself plainly to his
mind as a thing that might be done--and I am not at all sure that it
did--then it was put aside at once as a plan quite ridiculous and not to
be encouraged. Harry had read of Sir Philip Sidney passing the cup of
water from his own parched lips to the dying-soldier who had still
greater need of it than himself, and he had thought it a grand and
beautiful action; but then it had never occurred to him that in his own
little common life--the every-day life of home and school, or it might be
sick-room--deeds of the _same kind of heroism_, though not by any means
so likely to be spoken of, were possible to and even require