is sobs by burying his head in the pillow, "I haven't
gone to sleep yet, but I guess I shall pretty soon."

"I just came to ask if you would like to have one of the children for
company. I know boys don't care much about dolls generally, but they are
very comforting sometimes, especially when people don't feel quite
happy, and I thought you might possibly like Lord Fauntleroy, because
he's a boy too, you know."

"You are very kind," said Jack gratefully; "I should like it. I never do
play with dolls--boys don't, you know, but a boy doll--well, that seems
a little different, doesn't it?"

"Of course it does," said Winifred confidently. "Just wait a minute, and
I'll bring him."

She darted away into her own room, returning in a moment with Lord
Fauntleroy in her arms.

"I'll put him right here on the pillow beside you," she said, "and if
you should feel lonely, you can just put out your hand and touch him.
There isn't anything to be lonely for really, you know, because father
and mother are in the parlor, and I'm right here in the next room, but
people do sometimes feel a little queer in the dark, especially if
they're not used to it. Lulu Bell doesn't like the dark a bit, and she
was ten last December. Now I guess we'd better not talk any more,
because mother said we were to go right to sleep."

Whether it was the presence of Lord Fauntleroy or the thought of the
kind little girl who had brought him I do not know, but, whatever the
cause may have been, Jack did not cry any more that night. He lay awake
for a little while thinking about how kind every one was, and then his
eyes closed, and he fell into a sound sleep from which he did not wake
till morning.

CHAPTER VII

A CHANCE FOR JACK

For several days Mrs. Randall was very ill, much worse than Jack ever
knew, for no one had the heart to tell him of the anxiety that was
filling their minds to the exclusion of almost every other thought. Even
Betty had always a bright smile and a cheerful assurance for her little
brother that mother would soon be better, no matter how heavy her poor
little heart might be. It was impossible to help loving the
sweet-tempered, gentle little cripple, and Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton soon
found themselves growing very fond of their guest, while Dr. Bell seldom
failed to stop for a word or two with his little soldier boy, as he
called him, after each of his visits to the invalid upstairs. As for
Winifred, she constituted herself