“What you overheard must have referred to some one else. They say that your mother’s operation was a success, and that she has come out of the anæsthetic better than they expected. I am so glad for you! Now you will have good news for the little brother at home!”
She had thoughtfully arranged for him to be admitted to the hospital ward early the next morning, and he left the house with the touch of her motherly hand still upon his shoulder and the sound of her cheering voice still in his ears.
Mrs. Stickney did not return home in a week, as the boys had hoped, and Doodles longed for his mother with a craving that Blue, who visited her regularly, every day, could scarcely comprehend.
“She’ll be here in a week or so, old feller—don’t you worry!” the elder brother would laugh, and then drop it from his mind.
But Giles Gaylord understood. His mother’s life had gone out in a hospital, and his heart yearned for the lonely little lad. Accordingly he laid plans, and on a sunny afternoon he astonished Doodles by running in briskly and asking if he would like a ride.
“Now?” cried the boy, his face alight with dawning joy.
“Right now!” was the gay answer. “Car’s at the door!”
Doodles did not guess of their destination until they stopped at the great white building, and only then when he saw the words over the door, “St. Luke’s Hospital.”
Barriers had a pleasant way of falling before Giles Gaylord’s smile; so now, although it was not a visiting hour, he walked in at the big door, with Doodles in his arms, up the broad stairway, and down the ward straight to the window where Mrs. Stickney sat reading.
“Mother!” It was scarcely more than a murmur, but to the young man all the terror and joy and longing of the last ten days were blended in the one word.