don't know that I
am a special pet of his, but I'm the only boy and named after him. I
daresay it's that, though, as far as real favourites go, I think it's
Hebe he cares most for. He was terribly sorry about her, and wrote that
if she needed anything expensive, mother wasn't to give two thoughts to
the cost. That letter came just about the time Dr. Marshall said we
should all go away, and mums and I had a talk over it.

'It's very good of gran,', said mums. 'I do think he's been wonderfully
good. But still it doesn't show me what to do. You see, Jack, when Hebe
goes away I _must_ go with her--I think Rowley and I could manage
without nurse--and that would be pretty expensive to begin with. Still,
I shouldn't so much mind writing to him about that, but it's for the
rest of you. I don't see how I'm to manage it, and I don't want to worry
your father just now. He is so busy with his new book, and he's been so
put back with the anxiety and bad nights while Hebe was so ill.'

For you know it isn't only writing books father does. He's busy all day
with his other work. I don't think I should say exactly what his
appointment is, for then you'd know who he was, but it's to do with
Parliament and the Government.

'Why can't we go to Furzely?' I said stupidly. For I had been told all
about it having been let for six months. Furzely is our--at least
gran's--country-house. It's not bad, but we're rather tired of it, and
the housekeeper is grumpy. 'That wouldn't cost much, would it?'

'My dear boy, you forget, the Wilmingtons are to be there till August.'

'Oh, of course,' I said.

'And besides, Furzely isn't the sort of air Dr. Marshall wants for you
all just now,' she went on. 'It's healthy, but it's nothing particular;
it's not hill air or moor air. Besides, it's out of the question.
Strayling or Fewforest--those were the places he said, or somewhere in
their neighbourhood. And I don't know either of them in the least. I've
no idea if there are lodgings or houses to be got; besides a house would
cost far too much, and I should have to send two or three servants. Oh
dear, what troubles have come with gran's lending me that unlucky
ornament!'

'I don't think that's quite fair, mums,' I couldn't help saying. 'The
troubles have come through Anne's fault. I wish _she_ would see it that
way, but I don't believe she thinks about it much now.'

'I hope she does,' said mother. 'And of course,' she went on, 'it's
wrong of me to gr