It was Sunday afternoon when old Oliver and Dolly entered the hall of the Children’s Hospital and inquired for Tony.  There was something about the old man’s look of age and the little child’s sweet face which found them favour, even in a place where everybody was received with kindness.  A nurse, who met them slowly climbing the broad staircase, turned back with them, taking Dolly’s hand in hers, and led them up to the room where they would find Tony.  There were many windows in it, and the sunshine, which never shone into their own home, was lighting it up gaily.  The cots were all covered with white counterpanes, and most of the little patients, who had been asleep the night before, were now awake, and sitting up in bed, with little tables before them, which they could slide up and down as they wished along the sides of their cots.  There was no sign of medicine, and nothing painful to see, except the wan faces of the children themselves.  But Oliver and Dolly had no eyes but for Tony, and they hurried on to the corner where he was lying.  His face was very white, and his eyelids were closed, and his lips drawn in as if he were still in pain.  But at the very gentle and almost frightened touch of Dolly’s fingers his eyes opened quickly, and then how his face changed!  It looked as if all the sunshine in the room had centred upon it, and his voice shook with gladness.

“Dolly hasn’t had to fret for Tony this time,” he said.

“But Dolly will fret till Tony gets well again,” she answered, clasping both her small hands round his.

“No, no!” said old Oliver; “Dolly’s going to be a very good girl, and help grand-pa to mind shop till Tony comes home again.”

This promise of promotion partly satisfied Dolly, and she sat still upon Oliver’s knee beside Tony’s cot, where his eyes could rest with contentment and pleasure upon them both, though the nurse would not let them talk much.  When they went away she took them through the girls’ wards in the story below; for the girls were more sumptuously lodged than the boys.  These rooms were very lofty, with windows reaching to the cornice of the ceiling, and with grand marble chimney-pieces about the fireplaces; for in former times, the nurse told them, this had been a gentleman’s mansion, where gay parties and assemblies had been held; but never had there been such a party and assembly as the one now in it.

Old Oliver walked down between the rows of cots, with his little love clinging shyly to his hand, smiling tenderly upon each poor little face turned to look at them.  Some of the children smiled back to him, and nodded cheerfully to Dolly, lifting up their dolls for her to see, and calling to her to listen to the pretty tunes their musical boxes were playing.  But others lay quietly upon their pillows half asleep, with beautiful pictures hanging over their feeble heads,—­pictures of Christ carrying a lamb in his arms; and again, of Christ with a little child upon his knee; and again, of Christ holding the hand of the young girl who seemed dead, but whose ear heard his voice saying “Arise!” and she came to life again in her father’s and mother’s house.  The tears stood in old Oliver’s eyes, and his white head trembled a great deal before he had seen all, and given one of his tender glances to each child.