"No; only bathed often. He said while he kept them shut of his own accord it was better not to harass him with a bandage. He looked very serious over it, Meg."
Meg did not answer. She was stroking the little face tenderly, and smoothing the soft brown curls.
"Poor little man," she whispered at length.
Mrs. Seymour fed the child with a spoon, and just as she had finished a knock came at the sitting-room door, which she went to answer.
Meg guessed what it was, but she lay quiet, her thoughts dwelling on what Dickie had suggested—that the Home above was better than this.
Mrs. Seymour did not return for some time, nor indeed till the steps of Jem and Cherry were heard coming back from the hospital. She went outside to meet them, telling Cherry to go up-stairs, and preparing Jem by a low word for what he would find in his room when he entered.
Though he knew it would be so, the little coffin having been promised at seven o'clock, yet it was a shock to him after all; and he was glad that his kind mother had let him go alone into the room, that he might have time to get over his feelings.
Mrs. Seymour, finding that Meg was quiet, and even cheerful, went up-stairs to look after Cherry, and to see if her invalid lodger should want anything. She found the poor child sitting near the fire, looking very mournful; and guessing at once that she had lost her father, she went up to her and kissed her kindly, saying—
"You must tell me all about it presently, dear child. Just now I want you to help me as nicely as you did this morning."
Cherry looked up, greatly relieved to be set to work at something.