when he arrived at Durham he felt prostrated by the renewal of his bitter
bereavement.




CHAPTER IV

SLOW CONVALESCENCE


The new nurse would not permit even Tom to enter the sick man's room, so
he waylaid the doctor at every visit, and, stern as he was, that
professional gentleman was compelled through sheer sympathy to speak as
encouragingly as possible to the lad.

Every morning Tom brought from the garden a handful of flowers and,
tapping gently at the sick man's door, handed them to the nurse, who,
giving him a more hopeful word concerning the patient, would send him
with light heart downstairs to his mother to report the good news. One
morning the boy brought a bunch of roses and violets, and gave them to
Enoch, the nurse, who received them with greater cordiality than usual,
remarking as he accepted the flowers: "Mr. Carl is much better. You shall
see him tomorrow."

The joyous-hearted boy bounded downstairs and, throwing his arms around
his mother's neck, repeated the words of the nurse. Enoch met Tom in the
hall next day. The lad was dressed in his best clothes and was nervously
impatient. "Now Tom," said Enoch, "promise me that you will not talk,
and you must not cry, and, remember, you can only stay ten minutes."