The eyelids closed, and the limbs relaxed in healthy sleep. The mother sat down, and though her arm became stiff and weary, not a muscle of it moved.
The doctor came in just before he woke.
'He has spoken; he knew me,' she said; and the doctor nodded and smiled.
And then a minute after the boy raised his head.
'Where am I, mother?' he asked feebly.
'In bed, darling. You've been ill.'
'Where's my button?'
'He'll do,' said the doctor contentedly; 'keep him quiet, and feed him up.'
And the glad news went round the village that Teddy was getting better.
It was a bright day for the farm when Teddy was brought down in a blanket and put in the big easy-chair by the fire. His little face and hands looked very fragile, with the blue veins standing out clearly under the transparent white skin, but his large eyes shone with light and gladness. His mother made him comfortable, then left him in his grandmother's charge for a short time. Old Mrs. Platt had had her share of suffering during those sad days; her heart was wrapped up in the boy, and perhaps the greatest trial of all was to stand aloof, and perform her daily work downstairs, whilst her daughter-in-law had the sole charge of him.
She came across to the chair now, and kneeling down in front of it, said, with tears in her eyes, as she took his two little hands into hers, 'Granny has sadly missed her pickle all this while.'