“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?”