"and where is he? I'd like to go."

"You go up-stairs, and on the second landing from this you'll see
four doors, one of the back ones is our bedroom, and the next one is
Charlie's. He is my son, you know, he's just about your age, but
he's--he's very delicate." Mrs. Lang hesitated a little, and turned
her face away from Jessie for a moment. "He's got to lie in bed all
the time, it is very dull for him, and he'll be glad to see you, he
knows you are come."

The door was banged open and banged shut again. "What's the use of
my taking the trouble to get up, in such weather as this, and shave
myself, and--and put myself out like this," grumbled the master of
the house, entering half dressed, half asleep, and more than half
angry. "No horses can run--"

Jessie crept to the door and escaped as swiftly and silently as
possible. At the sight of her father all her old terror of him
rushed over her again, and she felt she could not face him.

Up the stairs she hurried as fast as the darkness and her own
ignorance of the house would let her, then stopped suddenly. She did
not know how many landings she had passed, or where to go. She tried
to remember, but it was no good. "I'll go on a little further,
though," she thought, "it will be better than going back again," and
she groped her way carefully up another little flight of stairs.
Round the bend of them a light gleamed from a partly open door.
She went on further and looked in. The room was empty and very
untidy, but there was a light burning in it. It was the one her
father had just left. In the dimness she made out a smaller door
beside it. Was this Charlie's? She listened for a moment, then a
small thin voice called out, "Is anybody there? Who is it?
Mother, is that you?"

Jessie stepped over to the door and knocked. "It is me--Jessie," she
called back. "Your mother sent me up to see you. May I come in?"

"Yes, please."

Jessie turned the handle very carefully. She felt painfully shy now
that she was actually here, but it was too late to turn back, so she
sidled in around the door, wondering very much what she should see,
and what she should say.

What she saw was an untidy room with a small bed in it, and a large
window just opposite the bed. There were a few fairly good pieces of
furniture in it as well, but the whole place looked neglected, untidy
and comfortless. Jessie did not notice this so much just at first,
though, for the little fi