"I'm ill, Miles!"—in a tone half plaintive, half triumphant.
"Musn't be ill, Humphie—oh, don't be ill!"
"You're often ill, Miles; why shouldn't I be ill sometimes?"
"Don't like it," said the child, his eyes filling with tears. "Oh, Humphie, I wish we hadn't tummelled into the pond!"
At this moment Sir Everard was called away, and informed that the physicians had arrived from London.
He found them in the dining-room, talking over the case with the village doctor and, after ordering them some breakfast, he returned to prepare the little invalid for their arrival.
As he approached the room he was alarmed to hear Humphrey's voice raised, and still more, when little Miles, with a face of terror came running out.
"Oh, Fardie, Fardie! will you come to Humphie? He's crying so, and he wants you to come directly!"
"Crying so! What is the matter with him?"
"Oh, I don't know? He began to cry and scream so when I said it!"