"I can't think what has come to you, Master Hal," she said. "You never used to suffer from these dreadful sick headaches. You had better go straight and lie down, and I will have some soup sent up to you."
Hal was thankful to accept her advice. The sight of the roast mutton, and the currant tart with Devonshire cream, which formed the nursery dinner that day, made him shudder; and going to his own room, he flung himself on the bed, and after having taken some of the soup which was brought to him, he fell asleep.
"Which," said Helen, as she and the rest peeped at him through a chink in the doorway, "is one way of spending a birthday."
"This birthday has been a failure altogether," said Jim. "I thought the morning was never coming to an end, and what we are to do this afternoon I am sure I don't know."
"You won't take my advice and let us have a fight by ourselves," said Helen. "It might not be much fun, but, anyway, it would be much better than dawdling away the whole day."
But the others did not agree with her. They felt that without Hal the whole thing would be lacking in spirit.
"I had meant to order a wagonette and take you all for a nice drive," said nurse, who was sorry for their disappointment. "But now that Master Hal looks so queer, I don't like to leave him."