At first he thought he must be in some kind of hospital. But this idea vanished when the nurse presently rose and left the room, and Mrs. Wilkins, trembling with agitation, entered.
"Mother!" Dick's voice was feeble; scarce above a whisper—"Mother, come here; I want you."
"Dick! O Dick, my darling, thank God you know me at last!" burst from the widow's lips, as tears of happiness coursed one another down her cheeks. "But don't attempt to move—there's a dear boy!—or Nurse Millicent will think I am exciting you, and send me away."
"Where am I, mother? I don't know this place."
"Why, you're at home, Dick, to be sure."
"Home!" was the faint echo. "No, we don't live here!" and the child's eyes wandered perplexedly from one side of the room to the other, finally resting on the chintz curtains at the window.
"Yes, we do, Dick. This is our pretty new home. We left the old one weeks ago, and are living in one of the cottages in Lord Bentford's estate now. And oh, my dear, we shall never any of us suffer from cold or hunger any more."
"Cold!" murmured the boy slowly. "Hunger! Yes, I remember all about it now." Then making a tremendous effort, he inquired, "And the little youngster who fell into the water—is he living?"
"Yes; and he's as well as ever he was—thanks to our good Stranger for saving him!"
"Why am I lying here in bed, mother? I feel so weak. Have I been ill?"