Tommy and Grizel. J. M. Barrie

well, or have you hurt yourself? You seem to be very lame." And Tommy woke with a start, to see that he was hobbling as if one of his legs were timber to the knee.

      "It is nothing," he said modestly. "Something Corp said set me thinking; that is all."

      He had told the truth, and if what he imagined was twenty times more real to him than what was really there, how could Tommy help it? Indignant Grizel, however, who kept such a grip of facts, would make no such excuse for him.

      "Elspeth!" she called.

      "There is no need to tell her," said Tommy. But Grizel was obdurate.

      "Come here, Elspeth," she cried vindictively. "Something Corp said a moment ago has made your brother lame."

      Tommy was lame; that was all Elspeth and Corp heard or could think of as they ran back to him. When did it happen? Was he in great pain? Had he fallen? Oh, why had he not told Elspeth at once?

      "It is nothing," Tommy insisted, a little fiercely.

      "He says so," Grizel explained, "not to alarm us. But he is suffering horribly. Just before I called to you his face was all drawn up in pain."

      This made the sufferer wince. "That was another twinge," she said promptly. "What is to be done, Elspeth?"

      "I think I could carry him," suggested Corp, with a forward movement that made Tommy stamp his foot—the wooden one.

      "I am all right," he told them testily, and looking uneasily at Grizel.

      "How brave of you to say so!" said she.

      "It is just like him," Elspeth said, pleased with Grizel's remark.

      "I am sure it is," Grizel said, so graciously.

      It was very naughty of her. Had she given him a chance he would have explained that it was all a mistake of Grizel's. That had been his intention; but now a devil entered into Tommy and spoke for him.

      "I must have slipped and sprained my ankle," he said. "It is slightly painful; but I shall be able to walk home all right, Corp, if you let me use you as a staff."

      I think he was a little surprised to hear himself saying this; but, as soon as it was said, he liked it. He was Captain Stroke playing in the Den again, after all, and playing as well as ever. Nothing being so real to Tommy as pretence, I daresay he even began to feel his ankle hurting him. "Gently," he begged of Corp, with a gallant smile, and clenching his teeth so that the pain should not make him cry out before the ladies. Thus, with his lieutenant's help, did Stroke manage to reach Aaron's house, making light of his mishap, assuring them cheerily that he should be all right to-morrow, and carefully avoiding Grizel's eye, though he wanted very much to know what she thought of him (and of herself) now.

      There were moments when she did not know what to think, and that always distressed Grizel, though it was a state of mind with which Tommy could keep on very friendly terms. The truth seemed too monstrous for belief. Was it possible she had misjudged him? Perhaps he really had sprained his ankle. But he had made no pretence of that at first, and besides—yes, she could not be mistaken—it was the other leg.

      She soon let him see what she was thinking. "I am afraid it is too serious a case for me," she said, in answer to a suggestion from Corp, who had a profound faith in her medical skill, "but, if you like,"—she was addressing Tommy now—"I shall call at Dr. Gemmell's, on my way home, and ask him to come to you."

      "There is no necessity; a night's rest is all I need," he answered hastily.

      "Well, you know best," she said, and there was a look on her face which Thomas Sandys could endure from no woman. "On second thoughts," he said, "I think it would be advisable to have a doctor. Thank you very much, Grizel. Corp, can you help me to lift my foot on to that chair? Softly—ah!—ugh!"

      His eyes did not fall before hers. "And would you mind asking him to come at once, Grizel?" he said sweetly. She went straight to the doctor.