“Oh! I do so long to be well, Archie.”
“And the sheep, Archie?” continued poor Kenneth. “I’ve dreamed about them so often since I’ve been sick. I always see them lookin’ up, Archie, with their bonnie brown een” (eyes), “and wonderin’ what has come of me. And I’m sure Kooran wants to see them.”
“Kooran could see them any day, and they’re doin’ finely, but Kooran won’t leave you.”
“Dear me, what shall I do?” cried Archie’s mother, running distractedly up the garden with a bucketful of greens in her hand. To have seen her half-scared looks, one would have imagined something terrible was about to happen. “Gentry coming, and I’m no’ dressed.”
The gently arrived about five minutes afterwards, little Jessie, Miss Gale, and Miss Grant.
As soon as she found herself on the garden path Jessie, who had a bunch of primroses in her hand, and some long drooping crimson-tipped twigs from the larch, started to run. But she paused half-way, and an expression of sadness stole over her face, as she noticed how wan and white Kenneth was looking.
She advanced more slowly and tendered the flowers.
“Poor boy!” she said; “are you very, very ill?”
Kenneth took the flowers, and a flush of joy lit his pale cheeks as he replied,—
“Not now, Miss Jessie. The doctor says I have nothing to do but get well.”