"The trouble won't matter," Mrs. Andrews said brightly. "Did he say you were to go to bed?"
"No, mother; but we were to keep as quiet as we could."
"Then in that case, George, I think you had better go to bed."
"No; I am sure we had better not," George said. "I should toss and fidget about there horridly. The best thing will be for us to sit here, and then we shall be all together. And if you talk to us, and perhaps read to us, we shan't feel it half so much. What are you going to do, mother?" he asked five minutes afterwards, as Mrs. Andrews came down with her bonnet on.
"I am going to get some linseed, George, of course. I haven't got any in the house."
"But it's Sunday, mother, and the shops will be shut."
"I shall get it at the chemist's, George. They will always supply things that are needed even on Sunday. People are ill on Sunday as well as any other day, you know. I shan't be gone more than a quarter of an hour. You must keep very quiet till I come back."
The boys found a good deal of relief from the effect of the poultices, and were very much better after a good night's rest. At ten o'clock the next morning, as Mrs. Andrews was sitting at her work, with the boys both on the hearthrug in front of the fire, there was a knock at the door. It was a loud double knock, quite unlike the ordinary summons of the baker's boy, who was the only regular caller. The boys jumped up in surprise.
"Who can that be, mother?"
"We shall soon see," Mrs. Andrews said quietly.