"His name is Jack, and he has been looking forward to see you for a long time."
"How do you do?" Jack asked politely. "Your name is Theodore, isn't it? Won't you please come nearer, and shake hands with me?"
Theodore obeyed mechanically, wondering why Jack should recline on the sofa. He looked with surprise at the small hand that clasped his own brown fingers.
"Why does he lie there?" he asked abruptly, addressing his stepmother for the first time. He was puzzled at the look of pain that crossed her face at his simple question; but Jack made answer readily and cheerfully:
"Didn't you know? Hasn't any one told you? Why, I'm lame!"
Theodore looked as he felt, inexpressibly shocked.
"It's my back," Jack went on to explain. "When I was a small boy I fell downstairs, and I've never been well since."
He spoke as though he was a grown-up person, in a matter-of-fact tone. "I shall never be strong like you as long as I live."
Theodore was greatly impressed. He fixed his serious grey eyes on Jack's face, and thought deeply.
"Does your back hurt?" he enquired at length.