uite well, mustn't it?"

"I expect it'll want a good long sleep first," said Dan, looking gravely
at the kitten, which had curled itself up by Becky's side, and begun a
faint little song of thankfulness; "it's been through a deal."

He took his neglected supper, and sat down to eat it at the foot of
Becky's couch, while Mrs Tuvvy returned to her cooking at the fire,
still grumbling half aloud. There was not much bread and milk, and Dan,
who always had a good appetite, was unusually hungry after his exertions
that afternoon. He had been through a deal, as well as the kitten. But
by dint of talking to his sister between each spoonful, he managed to
eke out the meal, and make it seem much more. Becky listened with the
most eager interest, meanwhile, to all the details of the fight, the
policeman, and the escape of Dan with the kitten. When there was no
more to tell, and very little more to eat, she leaned back on her couch
and sighed.

"He's a reg'lar bad un, that Bill!" she said presently. "Will he want
to fight again?"

Dan shook his head. "I shan't come across him no more," he said; "not
now I'm going to a place."

"I forgot," said Becky wearily. "Oh Dan, how long the days'll be when
you don't come home to dinner. Whatever shall I do?"

"Why," said Dan soothingly, "you won't be alone now. You'll have the
kit."

Becky gave a faint little smile.

"I mean to get you a good long bit of string," went on Dan, "and tie a
cork to the end, and then, you see, you'll bounce it about for the kit
to play with, and carry on fine, without moving."

"I suppose it'll get to know me after a bit, won't it?" said Becky,
evidently pleased with Dan's idea.

"Just about," answered her brother decidedly. Becky looked down fondly
at the small grey form on her arm.

"Dr Price's dogs came in with him to-day," she said, "but they mustn't
come in no more now. They'd worry it to death. Mother told him
to-day," she added in a lower tone, "as how she couldn't pay his bill,
because of father."

"What did he say?" asked Dan.

"He said, `That's a bad job, Mrs Tuvvy, but it can't be helped.'"

"Did he say you were getting better?" asked Dan again, scraping his
basin carefully round with his spoon.

"He said I wanted plenty of rest, and plenty of nourishing food," said
Becky. "What's nourishing food, Dan?"

"Nice things," said Dan, balancing his spoon on the edge of his basin,
and smacking his hungry lips; "chickens, and