Teddy sat up and stared at her, and though his breath still came in sobs he made no noise.
"Will they mind, Girzie?" he asked anxiously. "Will they 'eally mind?"
"Mind!" Girzie repeated. "Mind! They'll just be that upset—and you almost like one o' them."
"Colin Dougal's broken his leg."
"Well, he'll get over that. My brother broke his leg at the football, and look at him now!"
"But we're going away, Girzie, ... and I haven't said good-bye to nobody, not to your Colin Dougal nor no one."
"Never fear but he'll see ye to say good-bye—but not if you cry—an' you going to be a grand officer gentleman some day. Soldiers don't cry, laddie. It would be the very last thing they'd think of doing."
"Not if they're hurted in their hearts?—nor never?"
"Not that any other person could see or hear them, you may depend on that. And you mustn't cry either, any way not so loud that folk could hear ye right across the Esplanade. Listen, laddie, we'll no forget you. My brother's just fair taken up wi' you, and he's sent you this—for a bit keepsake. It's one o' his buttons made into a safety-pin, and when you're a wee thing bigger you'll wear it to hold down your tie ... if nurse'll let you," she added hastily, with an anxious glance at nurse, who continued to pack in absorbed silence.
Eagerly Teddy untied the little packet, and there was a real soldier's button mounted as a safety-pin.