"Yes, of course I would," said Jack, with a brightening face.
"Well, the very best thing you can possibly do for her at this moment is to obey Mrs. Hamilton, and let me carry you downstairs to her rooms."
Jack was silent for a moment; his face was twitching, and he clasped and unclasped his hands nervously. Then he looked up into the doctor's face.
"All right," he said bravely, "I'll go, only—only, may I kiss mother good-night first?"
"Your mother is asleep now, but you may look at her if you like. She is more comfortable than she was this morning. Shall I take you in to have a peep at her?"
Jack nodded—he was finding it rather hard work to speak just then—and the doctor lifted him in his arms and carried him into the bedroom.
Mrs. Randall was lying with closed eyes, still breathing heavily, but no longer talking in that strange, incoherent way that had frightened Betty so much in the morning. Miss Clark, in her nurse's uniform, sat at the foot of the bed.
"Good-night, mother," Jack whispered very softly, and he kissed his hand to the motionless figure on the bed. "I'll be a good boy. Good-night and pleasant dreams."
The nurse rose, and, at a sign from Dr. Bell, followed them out of the room.
"This is Miss Clark, Jack," the doctor said; "she is taking splendid care of your mother."