Neither could Charlie, when he heard the broken voice say that; but, boy-like, he wouldn’t own it, and said pettishly, as he rubbed his sleeve across his eyes—

“Don’t hold that confounded thing right under my nose; the mustard makes my eyes smart.”

“Don’t see how it can, when it hasn’t any more strength in it than meal. The Doctor said so, and I’m going to get some better,” began Phebe, not a bit ashamed of the great tears that were bedewing the condemned plaster.

“I’ll go!” and Charlie was off like a shot, glad of an excuse to get out of sight for a few minutes.

When he came back all inconvenient emotion had been disposed of, and, having delivered a box of the hottest mustard procurable for money, he departed to “blow up” Mac, that being his next duty in his opinion. He did it so energetically and thoroughly that the poor Worm was cast into the depths of remorseful despair, and went to bed that evening feeling that he was an outcast from among men, and bore the mark of Cain upon his brow.

Thanks to the skill of the Doctor, and the devotion of his helpers, Rose grew easier about midnight, and all hoped that the worst was over. Phebe was making tea by the study fire, for the Doctor had forgotten to eat and drink since Rose was ill, and Aunt Plenty insisted on his having a “good cordial dish of tea” after his exertions. A tap on the window startled Phebe, and, looking up, she saw a face peering in. She was not afraid, for a second look showed her that it was neither ghost nor burglar, but Mac, looking pale and wild in the wintry moonlight.

“Come and let a fellow in,” he said in a low tone, and when he stood in the hall he clutched Phebe’s arm, whispering gruffly, “How is Rose?”

“Thanks be to goodness, she’s better,” answered Phebe, with a smile that was like broad sunshine to the poor lad’s anxious heart.

“And she will be all right again to-morrow?”

“Oh, dear no! Dolly says she’s sure to have rheumatic fever, if she don’t have noo-monia!” answered Phebe, careful to pronounce the word rightly this time.

Down went Mac’s face, and remorse began to gnaw at him again as he gave a great sigh and said doubtfully—

“I suppose I couldn’t see her?”

“Of course not at this time of night, when we want her to go to sleep!”

Mac opened his mouth to say something more, when a sneeze came upon him unawares, and a loud “Ah rash hoo!” awoke the echoes of the quiet house.

“Why didn’t you stop it?” said Phebe reproachfully. “I dare say you’ve waked her up.”

“Didn’t know it was coming. Just my luck!” groaned Mac, turning to go before his unfortunate presence did more harm.

But a voice from the stair-head called softly, “Mac, come up; Rose wants to see you.”

Up he went, and found his uncle waiting for him.

“What brings you here at this hour, my boy?” asked the Doctor in a whisper.