“Shall we, Ran?” asked Charlotte.

“Oh, let’s!” said the boy, with enthusiasm.  So away they went.  The result of the expedition came out later in the day.  Before dinner the entire household was grouped about the fire, Doctor Churchill having just come in, after one of his busiest days.

“Been out to the hospital again, Cousin Andy?” Ran asked.

“Yes; twice since the noon visit.”

“How was the little boy with the broken waist?

“Fractured hip?  Just about as you saw him.  He’s got to be patient a good while before he can walk again, and these first few days are hard.  He asked me when you would come again.”

“Oh, I’ll go to-morrow!” cried Randolph, sitting up very straight on his cushion.  “And I’ll take him a book I’ve got, with splendid pictures.”

“Good!” Doctor Churchill laid a hand on the boy’s thick locks.  “That will please him immensely.”

Mrs. Peyton was looking at him with dismay.  “Do I understand you have taken him to a hospital?” she asked.

Doctor Churchill nodded.  “To the boys’ surgical ward.  Nothing contagious admitted to the hospital.  It’s a wonderful pleasure to the little chaps to see a boy from outside, and Ran enjoyed it, too, didn’t you?”

“Oh, it was jolly!” said the boy.

“I shouldn’t think that was exactly the word to describe such a spot,” said Mrs. Peyton, and she looked displeased.  “I think there are quite enough sad sights in the world for his young eyes without taking him into the midst of suffering.  I should not have permitted it if you had consulted me.”

It was true that Doctor Churchill possessed a frank and boyish face, wearing ordinarily an exceedingly genial expression; but the friendly gray eyes were capable of turning steely upon provocation, and they turned that way now.  He returned his cousin’s look with one which concealed with some difficulty both surprise and disgust.

“I took Ran nowhere that he would see any extreme suffering,” he explained.  “This ward contains only convalescents from various injuries and operations.  The graver cases are elsewhere, and he saw nothing of those.  A visit to this ward is likely to excite sympathy, it is true, but not sympathy of a painful sort.  The boys have very good times among themselves, after a limited fashion, and I think Ran had a good time with them.  How about it, Ran?”

“Oh, I did!  I taught two of ’em to play waggle-finger.  Their legs were hurt, but their hands were all right, and they could play waggle-finger as well as anybody.  They liked it.”

“Nevertheless, Randolph is of a very sensitive and delicate make-up,” pursued his mother, “and I don’t think such associations good for him.  He moaned in his sleep last night, and I couldn’t think what it could be.”

“It couldn’t have been the candy we made this afternoon, could it, Cousin Lula?” Charlotte asked, in her gentlest way.  A comprehending smile touched the corners of Doctor Churchill’s lips.