The boys were very thoughtful, for boys; Mrs. Parker had it is true warned them not to talk of their out-of-door pleasures and amusements to or before Joe, and they were generally careful; but sometimes they would, in the gladness of their young hearts, break out into praises of the fine walk they had just had on the cliff, or the glorious skating on the pond, of the beauty of the pony, and of undiscovered walks and rides in the neighbourhood.  Once, in particular, Emilie, who was spending the afternoon with the Parkers, was struck with the expression of agony that arose to Joe’s face from a very trifling circumstance.  They were all talking with some young companion of what they would be when they grew up, and one of them appealing to Joe, he quickly said, “oh, a sailor—­I care for nobody at home and nobody cares for me, so I shall go to sea.”

“To sea!” the boy repeated in wonder.

“And why not?” said Joe, petulantly, “where’s the great wonder of that?”

There was a silence all through the little party; no one seemed willing to remind the poor lad of that which he, for a moment, seemed to forget—­his helpless crippled state.  It was only Emilie who noticed his look of hopelessness; she sat near him and heard his stifled sigh, and oh, how her heart ached for the poor lad!

This conversation and some remarks that the boy made, led Mr. and Mrs. Parker seriously to think that he entertained hopes of recovery, and they were of opinion that it would be kinder to undeceive him, than to allow him to hope for that which could never he.  Mr. Parker began to talk to him about it one day, very kindly, after an examination of his back, when White said, abruptly, “I don’t doubt you are very skilful.  Sir, and all that, but I should like to see some other doctor.  I have money enough to pay his fee, and uncle said I was to have no expense spared in getting me the best advice.  Sir J. ——­ comes here at Christmas, I know, to see his father, and I should like to see him and consult him, Sir, may I?” Mr. Parker of course could make no objection, and a day was fixed for the consultation.  It was a very unsatisfactory one and at once crushed all Joe’s hopes.  The result was communicated to him as gently and kindly as possible.

Mrs. Parker was a mother, and her sympathy for poor Joe was more lasting than that of the younger branches of the family.  She went to him on the Sunday evening following the physician’s visit to tell him the whole truth, and she often said afterwards how she dreaded the task.  Joe lay on the sofa before the dining room window, watching the blue sea sit a distance, and thinking with all the ardour of youthful longing of the time when his back should be well, and he should be a voyager in one of those beautiful ships.  He should have no regrets, and no friends to regret him; then he groaned at the pain and inconvenience and privation of his present state, and panted for restoration.  Mrs. Parker entered and eat down by him.