It was on a cold April morning that Mrs. Stickney awoke feeling very ill. The exertion of dressing increased her distress, and after rousing Blue she lay down again.

He kindled the fire, filled the teakettle, and dressed Doodles.

“I don’t see why I should be sick,” she worried. “I was well enough last night when I went to bed. I cannot go to the shop if this pain doesn’t let up.”

“You’ll feel better when you’ve had some breakfast,” Blue told her cheerfully; but her reply was a sudden wince, and only with a mighty effort did she keep from groaning aloud.

The boy had so often assisted about the meals that he worked without awkwardness or delay, and presently he had a slice of toast delicately browned and the tea simmering fragrantly. Yet Mrs. Stickney could not eat; she leaned back in her rocker, white with suffering.

Remedy after remedy was of no avail, and finally Blue ran down to ask Granny O’Donnell what should be done.

Granny limped upstairs at once, and soon coaxed the sick woman to sip a steaming herb drink, one of her favorite cure-alls.

“It seems as if I did feel a little easier,” was the verdict at school time; so Blue went whistling down the street in the belief that his mother would speedily recover.

At noon, however, he opened the kitchen door on a sorrowful group, Granny, Mrs. Jimmy George, and Doodles. Granny was anxiously endeavoring to be calm, but the other two were weeping openly. Evangeline, in her mother’s arms, unnoticed in the strain of the moment, was blissfully engaged in the forbidden delight of pulling down her mother’s hair.

Blue turned to Granny, a woeful question in his eyes.

“I’m awful sorry for yer!” began Mrs. Jimmy—“Goodness gracious, Evangeline George, what are you doin’!” She gathered together her falling tresses, administering a tiny slap to the pouting culprit. “If that kid ain’t a terror! I’m wonderin’ all day long what she’ll be up to next!”

“She’s in th’ bidroom,” nodded Granny to Blue, across the now wailing Evangeline. “Don’t ye go to worryin’, me dear! ’T ain’t goin’ to be mooch, likely!”

He waited for no more, but darted to the half-shut door, pushed it wide, and went in.

His mother held out her hand. “My poor boy!” she said tremulously.

“What is it?” he managed to ask.

“I’ve got to go to the hospital and have an operation! I sent for the doctor—I grew so much worse—Granny said I must—so she asked Donovan to telephone. He said right away I’d got to go—oh, it seems’s if I couldn’t! What will you do—you and Doodles?”

“When you goin’?”

“At half-past one.”

“Not to-day?” with alarmed emphasis.

“Yes. The doctor said it was my only chance.” Her voice broke and then steadied again. “I am not afraid; but you—” she halted for composure.

“Don’t mind me!” Blue spoke out bravely. “Doodles and I will be all right. You won’t have to be gone long.”

“He says a week or ten days even if all goes well.” She fingered her shawl fringe nervously. “Sit down here a minute,” pulling gently at his sleeve.

He dropped to the edge of the bed, while she went on hesitantly.

“I wanted to say, if I—if anything should happen, you’ll take care of Doodles and keep him with you—as long as you live?”

“Of course, I will, mother! But there isn’t goin’ to anything happen!”

“You can never tell! The doctor admitted there is danger. And—if I shouldn’t come back, I want you always to do right and grow up to be just as good a man as you know how to be. Go to Sunday school, and to church, too, when you can! I wish now I’d have gone myself, and not thought of clothes or being tired—well, if God gives me another chance I’ll try to do better.” She sighed. “I guess I haven’t set you a very good example—”

“You have too!” Blue burst out. “You’re all right!”

The mother put his hand to her lips, and held it there.

“You’re a good boy now,” she resumed, “and I want you to keep so. Don’t ever drink or swear! Read your Bible every day, and never forget your prayers night and morning!”

“Don’t you worry!” Blue said huskily. “I’ll do all you want me to.”

“I’m sure you’ll do your best, but if I’m not here to help,” she shook her head slowly, “I don’t see how you’re going to get along. The town may want to send you both to the asylum, and I’m afraid Doodles wouldn’t be happy there—oh, I ought not to worry! God will take care of you, but I can’t help feeling anxious. At any rate, keep Doodles with you! You will, won’t you?”

“I’d like to see anybody try to get him away from me!” scouted Blue. “He’d wish he was out o’ the tussle before he was many minutes older!”

The mother smiled faintly. “All right!” she agreed. “I’m glad you feel that way. I’ve always tried to make it as easy for Doodles as I could, and I know you do.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Then she resumed, “There’s four dollars in my purse; that’ll last you a while. The rent is paid for nearly a month more, and all you’ll want is food. Don’t spend for anything unnecessary, but buy what you need to keep well and strong.”

“I guess I shall do it all up straight,” Blue reassured her. “Say, how you going to get over to the hospital? It’s a good way, and you ain’t able to walk—”

“The doctor said he’d send somebody with a car—another doctor, I believe. He thought it would be easier than the ambulance. He told me to be very careful going downstairs, and to keep still till I went.”

“Ye’d betther be takin’ a bite befure long—it’s all riddy,” broke in Granny’s gentle voice.

Mrs. Stickney could eat nothing, but Blue went as bidden, and tried to keep up a brave show, for the sake of Doodles.

The afternoon was dreary. Blue would not go to school, but stayed with his brother except for the short time that he raced over his paper route. It had been arranged for him to go to the hospital at six o’clock, to learn how his mother had borne her operation and, possibly, to see her for a moment. But an entirely unprecedented accident delayed him. At half-past five the clock stopped, and it was not discovered until long after six. Then Blue caught up his cap, and started on a hard run.

It was a hot and breathless boy that at last halted on the hospital steps and pushed the bell button.

“It is too late,” the attendant answered. “You cannot be admitted to-night.”

“But I want to know how my mother is,—Mrs. Stickney,” faltered Blue.

At the moment a girl was crossing the hall, and turned towards the other with the quick query, “How is she?”

“On the verge of collapse!” was the low reply. “Dr. Grace says she’ll never come out of it; she can’t last till morning!”

A gust of wind swept through the long hall, swinging the door together. It shut with a snap, and Blue, stunned by what he had heard, walked slowly down to the big gate.

How could he go home to Doodles with such news! The nurse must have meant his mother, yet would they have been so cruel as to refuse him admittance and then coolly let him know that she would die before morning? It was too horrible! He walked on and on and on, his mind in a tumult. When, finally, he took notice of his surroundings, he could not tell where he was. A policeman set him right, and with a sick heart he turned towards home. Home! The name mocked him! It would never be home if his mother did not come back. One faint ray of light pierced the blackness of his soul,—the woman might, possibly, have referred to somebody else! If he could only know! But there was no way of finding out before morning, and a night of such suspense might kill Doodles. His feet lagged as they neared the home corner. He felt that he could not face his brother with the uncertain story. What should he do? He turned, and began to walk back the way he had come. Suddenly there came to his mind the name of Dr. Hudson, the physician his mother had called—he would know! Of course, he would! His office was in the bank block, not three squares away! He struck into a run, and did not stop until he stood at the entrance of the building. He searched for the number of the office, and was carried up in the elevator.

The door was locked. A card bore the information, “Gone to dinner. Back at 8.00.”

Blue read it disconsolately. Should he wait?

“If I knew where he lived,” he muttered, “I’d go to his house.” His next thought was to find out, and in a moment he was consulting a directory in one of the shops below. Presently he was on his long way to 1062 Garden Street; but when he reached the place he was again disappointed.

The Polish maid who answered his ring told him, with hesitation and many gestures, “Doctor not home—dinner—he go!”

“What shall I do?” involuntarily passed the boy’s lips.

“What is it, Mary?” A lady was coming downstairs.

“I wanted to see the doctor, and find out how my mother is!” Blue cried eagerly.

“Dr. Hudson will be back in a short time, I think. Will you come in and wait?”

The sympathetic voice and manner were winning, and Blue was soon seated in the physician’s office, answering the lady’s questions and telling his story.

“We need not wait for Doctor,” Mrs. Hudson decided. “I think we can find out now.”

She crossed to the telephone, and Blue sat tense, his heart quickening, as she called the hospital number and gave her inquiry. What would be the answer?

A happy “She’s all right!” was flung in his direction; then the telephoning continued.

Before the boy had recovered his poise, the doctor’s wife was at his side.

“What you overheard must have referred to some one else. They say that your mother’s operation was a success, and that she has come out of the anÆsthetic better than they expected. I am so glad for you! Now you will have good news for the little brother at home!”

She had thoughtfully arranged for him to be admitted to the hospital ward early the next morning, and he left the house with the touch of her motherly hand still upon his shoulder and the sound of her cheering voice still in his ears.

Mrs. Stickney did not return home in a week, as the boys had hoped, and Doodles longed for his mother with a craving that Blue, who visited her regularly, every day, could scarcely comprehend.

“She’ll be here in a week or so, old feller—don’t you worry!” the elder brother would laugh, and then drop it from his mind.

But Giles Gaylord understood. His mother’s life had gone out in a hospital, and his heart yearned for the lonely little lad. Accordingly he laid plans, and on a sunny afternoon he astonished Doodles by running in briskly and asking if he would like a ride.

“Now?” cried the boy, his face alight with dawning joy.

“Right now!” was the gay answer. “Car’s at the door!”

Doodles did not guess of their destination until they stopped at the great white building, and only then when he saw the words over the door, “St. Luke’s Hospital.”

Barriers had a pleasant way of falling before Giles Gaylord’s smile; so now, although it was not a visiting hour, he walked in at the big door, with Doodles in his arms, up the broad stairway, and down the ward straight to the window where Mrs. Stickney sat reading.

“Mother!” It was scarcely more than a murmur, but to the young man all the terror and joy and longing of the last ten days were blended in the one word.

The call had to be short; but it was full of happiness, and presently Doodles was in the car again, gliding out into the greening country where blossoms of gold starred the fields and roadsides.

They did not talk much. The radiant little face beside him was enough for the driver, who had always a spare hand to tuck in the robe whenever it fell away from the slight form. Once or twice he called the boy’s attention to some rare bit of landscape; but for the most part the way was silent.

At a tiny house on a green knoll the car stopped.

“Where are we going now?” queried Doodles. But Mr. Gaylord only laughed mysteriously as he lifted him out.

In a moment the little lad was seated in a quaint, old-fashioned room with a sanded floor and queer little tables and straight-backed chairs. The tables were laid with dainty white china and shining old silver, and right in the middle of each was a glass boat filled with dandelions. A young girl in white cap and apron brought in a pitcher of milk and some odd-shaped biscuits, with a dish of cookies and buns. Then he suddenly remembered that he was very hungry. Did anything ever taste so good! Weariness flew away on wings of magic. Tongues grew merry, and soft laughter became so infectious that the pretty serving-maid smiled happily to herself just beyond the door. It was a wonderful little feast. And the ride back to town—well, there was never such a ride, Doodles thought.

They found Blue at home and hunting, with a vague fear, for his missing brother.

“I wish you could see how many thank-you’s I feel,” Doodles said, as Mr. Gaylord set him carefully among his cushions; “but you couldn’t hold them all—they’d spill over. I think you must be one of God’s comforters.”