actitioner, who
afterwards removed to London, and became very distinguished, and had
his portrait painted in oils for one of the learned societies. And
Grandmamma said she had been spared to survive all her family, and had
never had a headache in her life.

Though my head was so bad, I listened as hard as I could to hear what
Dr. Brown would say. For I thought--"if he makes one of his speeches,
they will quarrel, and he will leave off being our doctor again."

But he didn't, he only said--"Well, well, madam, I'll send the child
some medicine. Let her go and lie down at once, with a hot bottle to
her feet, and as many pillows as she wants under her head; and don't
let a sound reach her for the next three or four hours. When she
wakes, give her a basin of bread and milk."

So he went away, and presently he came back himself with the medicine.
It tasted very nice, and he was very kind; only he made Jael so cross
with saying she had not put boiling water in the hot bottle, and
sending it down again; and then making her fetch more pillows out of
the spare bedroom (Jael does not like odd things any more than odd
times). But I never had such a hot bottle or such a comfortable
headache before, and he pulled the blind down, and I went to sleep. At
first I dreamt a little of the pain, and then I forgot it, and then
slept like a top, for hours and hours.

When I woke I found a basin of bread and milk, with a plate over it to
keep it warm, on the rush-bottomed chair by the bed. It hadn't kept it
very warm. It made me think of the suppers of the Three Bears in their
three basins, and I daresay theirs were rather cold too. Perhaps their
Jael boiled their bread and milk at her own time, whether they were
ready for it or not.

But I think mine must have been like the Little Bear's supper, for I
ate it all up.

My head was much better, so I went up to our attic, and got out the
Fairy Book, that I might not think too much about Margery, and it
opened of itself at the Puzzling Tale. I was just beginning to read
it, when I heard a noise under the rafters, in one of those low sort
of cupboard places that run all round the attic, where spare boxes and
old things are kept, and where Margery and I sometimes play at Voyages
of Discovery.

I thought Margery's black cat must be shut up there, but when I went
to look, there was another crash, and then the door burst open, and
out came Jael, with her cap so crushed that I could not help la