"Poor old chap!"
"Oh I'm all right. At least, I would be, I know, if you'd let me sit up. No one could get well, always lying flat. Why you couldn't keep me flatter if my silly back was broken!—and you said it wasn't, didn't you, mother?"
His eyes were like a pleading animals. Mrs. Lester smiled at him with stiff lips.
"And it isn't, old son. But you must be patient—give us time."
Dick saw her mouth quiver, and was seized with swift penitence.
"I didn't mean to be a brute, mother. I won't worry you." He gave a little laugh. "You see, Dr. Brereton was someone new for me to worry, so I had to."
"H'm!" said the doctor. "We poor wretches are supposed to be able to stand anything. Never mind—just wait until you're up, and able to fight——"
He was interrupted by a quick cry from Dick. The boy's eyes were shining, his voice shaking with excitement.
"Doctor! You mean that! You mean I'll t-truly be up—able to f-fight—I won't lie here always! You did m-mean it——!"
Mrs. Lester turned to the window, unable for a moment to command her face. The doctor patted the boy's head with swift remorse.