"No, mamma. But why aren't you in bed, and why is there a light in the room? Aren't you going to bed?"
"Yes, in an hour or two Flowers will come and take my place. You see we thought you might be thirsty in the night, and the doctor said you mustn't move."
"I am thirsty," said Ferdy. "I'd like a drink of water."
"Better than lemonade? There is some nice fresh lemonade here."
Ferdy's eyes brightened.
"Oh, I would like that best, but I didn't know there was any."
Mamma poured some out into such a funny cup—it had a pipe, so Ferdy called it, at one side. He didn't need to sit up, or even to lift his head, to drink quite comfortably.
"And I think," Mrs. Ross went on, "I think I will give you another spoonful of the medicine. It is not disagreeable to take, and it will help you to go to sleep again."
Yes, it did; very, very soon he was asleep again. This time he dreamt something, though when he awoke he could not clearly remember what. He only knew that it was something about birds. He lay with his eyes shut thinking about it for a few minutes, till a sound close to him made him open them and look round. It was morning, quite morning and daylight, and from the window came the gentle twittering of some swallows, who had evidently taken up their summer quarters in some corner hard by.