"I got her up to-day for a little while; but she said she was so tired that she was glad to get to bed again."
"Is that Walter, mother?" cried a voice from an adjoining room.
Mrs. Hardy looked annoyed—she evidently wished to get rid of Walter as quickly as possible.
"Yes, child, yes; but you ought to be asleep now," said her mother, not in a very kind or gentle tone.
"Let him just come to the door; I want so to speak to him, mother."
Walter moved across the kitchen towards the door where Gracie's voice proceeded.
"I am glad you are better, Gracie dear."
"I do hope I shall soon be well," cried the child; "it seems so long since I had a talk with you. And oh, Walter, my little seat at the bottom of the garden has got broken—and will you mend it for me? I know you will, for you are so kind. When I was so very ill, it made me so sad to think I should perhaps never see you again, Walter."
Here a violent fit of coughing interrupted Gracie's speech. And Mrs. Hardy made a sign to Walter not to talk much more to her.
"I must go now, Gracie dear," said Walter, when the child's coughing had ceased, "but I will come again very soon, and then I hope you will be able to be up; and I will see what your seat wants this very evening, so that it shall be ready for you by the time you want it. The moon shines so brightly that I can see as well as by daylight. Good-night, dear."