“Th’ more they laugh th’ better for ’em!” said Mrs. Sowerby, still laughing herself.  “Good healthy child laughin’s better than pills any day o’ th’ year.  That pair’ll plump up for sure.”

“They are plumpin’ up,” said Dickon.  “They’re that hungry they don’t know how to get enough to eat without makin’ talk.  Mester Colin says if he keeps sendin’ for more food they won’t believe he’s an invalid at all.  Miss Mary says she’ll let him eat her share, but he says that if she goes hungry she’ll get thin an’ they mun both get fat at once.”

Mrs. Sowerby laughed so heartily at the revelation of this difficulty, that she quite rocked backward and forward in her blue cloak, and Dickon laughed with her.

“I’ll tell thee what, lad,” Mrs. Sowerby said when she could speak.  “I’ve thought of a way to help ’em.  When tha’ goes to ’em in th’ mornin’s tha’ shall take a pail o’ good new milk an’ I’ll bake ’em a crusty cottage loaf or some buns wi’ currants in ’em, same as you children like.  Nothin’s so good as fresh milk an’ bread.  Then they could take off th’ edge o’ their hunger while they were in their garden an’ th’ fine food they get indoors ‘ud polish off th’ corners.”

“Eh! mother!” said Dickon admiringly, “what a wonder tha’ art!  Tha’ always sees a way out o’ things.  They was quite in a pother yesterday.  They didn’t see how they was to manage without orderin’ up more food—­they felt that empty inside.”

“They’re two young ‘uns growin’ fast, an’ health’s comin’ back to both of ‘em.  Children like that feels like young wolves an’ food’s flesh an’ blood to ’em,” said Mrs. Sowerby.  Then she smiled Dickon’s own curving smile.  “Eh! but they’re enjoyin’ theirselves for sure,” she said.

She was quite right, the comfortable wonderful mother creature—­and she had never been more so than when she said their “play actin’” would be their joy.  Colin and Mary found it one of their most thrilling sources of entertainment.  The idea of protecting themselves from suspicion had been unconsciously suggested to them first by the puzzled nurse and then by Dr. Craven himself.

“Your appetite is improving very much, Master Colin,” the nurse had said one day.  “You used to eat nothing, and so many things disagreed with you.”

“Nothing disagrees with me now,” replied Colin, and then seeing the nurse looking at him curiously he suddenly remembered that perhaps he ought not to appear too well just yet.  “At least things don’t so often disagree with me.  It’s the fresh air.”

“Perhaps it is,” said the nurse, still looking at him with a mystified expression.  “But I must talk to Dr. Craven about it.”

“How she stared at you!” said Mary when she went away.  “As if she thought there must be something to find out.”

“I won’t have her finding out things,” said Colin.  “No one must begin to find out yet.”  When Dr. Craven came that morning he seemed puzzled, also.  He asked a number of questions, to Colin’s great annoyance.