As he said this Timothy saw in his face the same half-wistful, half-whimsical expression he had observed upon his first entrance into the sick-room. The tears which welled into the mother's eyes at mention of a will--a strange fancy to enter the brain of one so young--almost blinded her. Mr. Meadows's eyes were tearless, but he suffered none the less.
"First, though, I must say good-bye to Harry and Joe and Nelly."
These were Teddy's brothers and sisters, all younger than he. "Good-bye!" murmured the mother. "Oh, my poor boy, my poor boy!"
"It is right," said Teddy; "it is, isn't it, father? I shall see them again; but after to-night they won't see me, perhaps, for a long, long time. No, don't take your arm away, father; I like it where it is, and mother's." He turned to each of them, and received their loving kiss. "Tim will go and bring them up. And, Tim, don't say anything to them about my dying; it might frighten them, and they wouldn't understand. Tell them that Teddy wants to kiss them good-night. Not good-bye, Tim, good-night."
Timothy went down-stairs and brought the youngsters up, telling them to be very quiet, as brother Teddy's head ached badly.
"Lift them up, Tim," said Teddy. "Good-night, Harry."
"Good-night, Teddy," said Harry. "Won't you get well soon, and have larks?"
"You shall have plenty of fun, Harry. Say God bless you, Teddy."
"God bless you, Teddy."
"And God bless you, Harry, and mind you must be a good boy."