"I think I would, but I don't know what it means," said Mark.
"It means that I'm to look after you," said Dick, "just as if I was your uncle or grandfather. You may call me grandfather if you want to."
"Oh, you're too young," said Mark, amused in spite of his weakness.
"Then we won't decide just at present about the name. But I forgot all about your being hungry."
"I'm not very hungry."
"At any rate you haven't had anything to eat since morning, and need something. I'll go down and see Mrs. Wilson about it."
Richard Hunter soon explained matters to Mrs. Wilson, to whom he offered to pay an extra weekly sum for Mark, and arranged that a small single bed should be placed in one corner of the room temporarily in which the match boy should sleep. He speedily reappeared with a bowl of broth, a cup of tea, and some dry toast. The sight of these caused the match boy's eyes to brighten, and he was able to do very good justice to all.
"Now," said Richard Hunter, "I will call in a doctor, and find out what is the matter with my little ward."
In the course of the evening Dr. Pemberton, a young dispensary physician, whose acquaintance Richard had casually made, called at his request and looked at the patient.
"He is not seriously sick," he pronounced. "It is chiefly debility that troubles him, brought on probably by exposure, and over-exertion in this languid spring weather."