As he rang the bell his heart was beating—­a feeling of acute suspense had suddenly come over him, of which he was secretly ashamed, for it was almost entirely a selfish distress.  And then, when the door opened, he saw that all was well, for the young woman’s worn face was radiant.

“Is that you, sir?  Oh, I did hope that you would come again!” she exclaimed, “The doctor says that my little girl’s certain to get well.  I was terrible anxious the day before yesterday, but now though she’s weak and wan, you’d hardly know she’d been bad, sir.”

“I wonder if you could give me the keys of Doryford House?” began Radmore.  “I want to go over it, and we need not trouble you to come with us.”

“I’m supposed always to go up with visitors,” she said hesitatingly, “even if I leaves them there,” but she looked troubled at the thought of leaving her child.  Then, all at once, Radmore had a happy inspiration.

“Would you feel easier if we left the little boy we’ve brought with us in charge?  He’s very intelligent.  He might sit in your kitchen.”

She looked across to where Betty Tosswill and Timmy were standing.  “Why, yes!” she exclaimed, relieved.  “If the young gentleman don’t mind, perhaps he would sit with Rosie.  ’Tain’t nothing infectious, you know, sir, and it would please her like to have a visitor.  She’s got a book in which there’s a picture of a little sick girl and someone coming to see her.  She said to me yesterday, ’No one comes to see me, mother, ’cepting doctor.’”

Radmore went off to the other two.

“The woman evidently feels that she ought to come up herself to the house.  But she’s nervous about leaving her little girl.  I was wondering whether Timmy would mind staying and amusing the child?  We might have our picnic in the house itself, if it’s in any way possible.”

“What sort of a little girl is she?” began Timmy, but his godfather cut him short.

“Never mind what sort of a little girl she is—­she’s longing for a visitor, and you will be the first one to see her since she’s been ill.”

He turned to Betty.  “Perhaps you’d like to go in and see what sort of a place it is?  Meanwhile I’ll open the gate and get the car through.”

Betty and Timmy followed the woman through the kitchen of the lodge to a bedroom, where lay a pale-faced little girl of six.  On the patchwork counterpane were a pair of scissors and a big sheet of paper.  It was evident that the child had been trying to amuse herself by cutting out patterns.  As the visitors came in, she sat up, and her little face flushed with joy.  Here was her dream come true!  Here were some visitors—­a beautiful lady in a peculiarly lovely blue bonnet, and a pleasant-looking young gentleman too!

Timmy, who was quite unshy, went up to her bedside.  “Good-morning,” he said in a polite, old-fashioned way.  “I’m sorry you’re ill, and I hope you’ll soon be quite well.  I’ve come to look after you while your mother goes up to the house with my godfather and my sister.  If you like, I’ll cut you some beautiful fairy figures out of that paper, and then we can pretend they’re dancing.”