The boy was so difficult to understand that he could not help feeling annoyed. A' man over thirty does not like treating a lad of sixteen as his equal. Yet Sidney somehow compelled that respect.
"No," replied he sweetly. "I am very stupid about some things. When a thought comes to me, it comes. I cannot call it."
"Then the thought came to you that Petronella would die?"
"She will die Dr. Jim. Two days ago I felt that she would die. So I came over to see her. She was afraid of death, till I talked to her. Now she is quite peaceful. She does not fear."
"Are you afraid of death Sidney?"
"Why should I be? I know."
"You know what?"
"That there is nothing to be afraid of." The boy spoke quite serenely and without any suggestion of pose. He had conducted Herrick to the dining-room and the two were seated opposite one another. On the table were the remains of Sidney's breakfast,--a glass of milk, some fruit and a loaf of bread. "I had to get these myself," he said, "Petronella is in bed in Mrs. Marsh's room. She is very ill."
"I knew she was ill some time ago," replied Herrick trying to assert himself, "but I think I can cure her."
"She will not live," said Sidney, staring in the most unwinking manner at Dr. Jim. "She will die before sunset. I know."