It was only old Joe's fancy, Mr. Robin said, when he mentioned it to his wife, but still he did think Stephen's father should let a doctor see him.
Stephen's father was spoken to, and at once went off for the best doctor in the old city. But the doctor told them just what the old man had told them before—that Stephen was going fast. He might pick up a bit if cooler weather came, but he would never outlive the summer, he said.
Stephen had heard the doctor's words, and leaving his father and Mr. Robin together, he crept away to Granny Robin's window.
"May I come in and sit on your knee, Granny Robin?" he said.
"Yes, my little darling," said the old woman, as she felt for the window, that she might help him in.
"Now we're cosy," said Stephen, as the old woman laid aside her knitting and took him in her arms.
"Granny Robin, I've come to tell you a secret."
"What is it, Stephie?"
"I'm going to die young, Granny Robin."
"Oh, I hope not, my dear child!" she said, as she stroked his little thin face.