"Why didn't you wake us, mother?"
"Because I thought it better to let you sleep on, George. I guessed that your burns had kept you awake for some time."
"That they did. I thought I was never going to get to sleep," George said; and Bill gave a similar account of himself. "Still, mother, a short night does no harm for once, and you haven't been able to get to church."
"It does not matter for once, George. What figures you both are!"
"We are figures," George said ruefully. "I hardly knew myself when I looked in the glass. My eyes are almost shut up, and the skin is peeling off my nose, and my hair is all rough and scrubby; and Bill looks as bad as I do. You are a figure, Bill!" and George burst into a fit of laughter.
"He's no worse than you, George; but come along, breakfast is waiting."
"You haven't waited breakfast for us, I hope, mother?"
"I made myself a cup of tea the first thing, boys, and had a slice of bread and butter, for I thought you might not be down for some time; but I am quite ready to join you; we have got fish. I put them down directly you called."
"Well, I am glad you are not starving, mother; and I am glad too you didn't have your regular breakfast. It would have been horrid to sit down on Sunday morning without you, when it's the only regular breakfast we get in the week."
Just as they had finished their meal there was a knock at the door. It was Bob Grimstone. Bill opened the door.