"Don't be so wild, Julia," interposed her mother. "You forget that he is very sick."
"Forgive me, Harry; I was so glad and so sorry. I hope I didn't make your head ache," she added, in a very gentle tone.
"No, Julia. It was very good of you to come and see me."
Harry felt a change come over him the moment she entered the room. The rebellious thoughts in his bosom seemed to be banished by her presence; and though his head ached and his flesh burned as much as ever, he somehow had more courage to endure them.
After Mr. and Mrs. Bryant had asked him a few questions, and expressed their sympathy in proper terms, they departed, leaving Julia to remain with the invalid for a couple of hours.
"I did not expect to see you, Julia," said Harry, when they had gone.
"Didn't you think I would do as much for you as you did for me?"
"It was rather different with you. I am only a poor boy, and you are a rich man's child."
"Pooh, Harry! Our souls are all of a color. You can't think how bad I felt when father got Mr. Wake's letter."
"It's a hard case to be knocked down in that way, and laid up in the house for a week or two."