"Oh, Chrissie," he called out, "how glad I am you've come! It seems such a long time since I saw you. You do look so nice this morning."
So she did—she was a very pretty little girl, especially when her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright, as they were just now.
"You look much better too, Ferdy," she said, "quite different from yesterday. Have you had a good night?"
"Pretty good," said Ferdy in rather a melancholy tone. "I am getting tired of staying in bed."
Chrissie's heart sank—"tired of staying in bed," and this scarcely the second day of it! What would he do if it went on for weeks—perhaps months? She felt glad, however, that she knew the truth; it would make her be very careful in what she said.
"I wouldn't mind so much," he went on, "if I knew how long it'd be. And I don't like to ask mamma for fear of making her sad, in case it was to be for a long while. Chrissie," and here he fixed his blue eyes—so like his mother's—on his sister's face, "do you think it'll be a very long while? Do you think," and his voice grew still more solemn, "that p'r'aps I'll never be able to stand or walk again?"
Chrissie's heart was beating fast. She was so glad to be able with truth to answer cheerfully.
"Oh no, Ferdy dear. I really do think you'll be able to get up and be dressed before very long. But I should think the quieter you keep just now the quicker you'll get better. And it's so nice in this room, and you can see so nicely out of the window. You don't want to get up just yet, do you—not till you feel stronger? Mamma says you'll feel much stronger in a few days."
"Does she?" said Ferdy, brightening; "then the doctors must have told her. I'm so glad. No, I don't really want to get up—at least I don't feel as if I could—that's what bothers me. I am not sorry in my body to stay in bed, but in my mind I'm all in a fidget. I keep fancying things," and he hesitated.
"What sort of things?" asked Chrissie. She had a feeling that it was better for him to tell her all that was on his mind.