He bounded upstairs into the nursery in search of Jane, and there found her with Jack, who was lying on an invalid's chair near the window.
"Oh, Theodore, how long you have been!" Jack cried, his beautiful dark eyes lighting up with a look of eager welcome. "Not that I have been dull," he added hastily, with a courteous, deprecating glance at his companion, "for Jane has been reading to me, and we have had a nice talk—haven't we, Jane?"
"Yes, sir."
"I've been telling her how I hurt my back. She used to know a little boy who was lame, and after a time he got quite well. But I can't, you know. Lots of doctors have been to see me, and one was a very great doctor indeed, from a hospital in London, where there are lots and lots of children. He came and punched me about a good deal; he didn't mean to hurt, you know; he had to do it. He was sorry; and I told him when I grew up I meant to be a great doctor, too; and he smiled, and looked sorrier and sorrier, because you see he thought I should not live very long. I should like to be a doctor, shouldn't you, Theodore?—a doctor like St. Luke."
"Was St. Luke a doctor?" Theodore asked, with interest in his tones.
"Yes. Don't you remember, Paul called him the 'beloved physician'?"
"I did not know," Theodore answered humbly.
"Mother told me." Then changing the conversation, "Does your governess give you difficult lessons to learn, Theo?"
"No, not very. She's my aunt, you know—Aunt Penelope."
"What's she like?"