t the switching, and
rubbed his hands, and lighted up with glee, as he heard of the
Ragglesford boys and their cheers; and then, Harold went eagerly on with
his scheme for fitting up Paul at the second-hand shop, both Mrs. King
and Alfred taking great interest in his plans, till Mrs. King hearing
something like a moan, went back to Paul.

She found his cheeks and hands as burning hot as they had been cold; they
were like live coals; and what was worse, such severe pains were running
all over his limbs, that he was squeezing the clothes into his mouth that
he might not scream aloud.

Happily it was Mr. Blunt's day for calling; and before the morning was
over he came, and after a few words of explanation, he stood at Paul's
bedside.

Not much given to tenderness towards the feelings of patients of his
degree, Mr. Blunt's advice was soon given. 'Yes, he is in for rheumatic
fever--won't be about again for a long time to come. I say, Mistress,
all you've got to do is to send in your boy to the Union at Elbury, tell
'em to send out a cart for him, and take him in as a casual pauper. Then
they may pass him on to his parish.'

Therewith Mr. Blunt went on to attend to Alfred.

'Then you think this poor lad will be ill a long time, Sir?' said Mrs.
King, when Mr. Blunt was preparing to depart.

'Of course he will; I never saw a clearer case! You'd better send him
off as fast as you can, while he can be moved. He'll have a pretty bout
of it, I dare say.

'It is nothing infectious, of course, Sir?' said the mother, a little
startled by this hastiness.

'Infectious--nonsense! why, you know better than that, Mrs. King; I only
meant that you'd better get rid of him as quick as you can, unless you
wish to set up a hospital at once--and a capital nurse you'd be! I would
leave word with the relieving officer for you, but that I've got to go on
to Stoke, and shan't be at home till too late.'

Mrs. King's heart ached for the poor forlorn orphan, when she remembered
what she had heard of the nursing in Elbury Union. She did not know how
to turn him from her door the day he had saved her son from danger such
as she could not think of without shuddering; and yet, what could she do?
Her rent and the winter before her, a heavy doctor's bill, and the loss
of Alfred's work!

Slowly she went up the stairs again to the narrow landing that held the
bed where Paul Blackthorn lay. He was quite still, but there were large
tears cour