simpering round, and in this he was not mistaken; but Stella did not
receive this visitor, for on the following day she was in bed with an
attack of fever that prostrated her during the rest of his leave.

It was not a dangerous illness, and Mrs. Ralston nursed her through it
with a devotion that went far towards cementing the friendship already
begun between them. Tommy, though regretful, consoled himself by the
ready means of the station's gaieties, played tennis with zest,
inaugurated a gymkhana, and danced practically every night into the
early morning. He was a delightful companion for little Tessa Ermsted
who followed him everywhere and was never snubbed, an inquiring mind
notwithstanding. Truly a nice boy was Tommy, as everyone agreed, and the
regret was general when his leave began to draw to a close.

On the afternoon of his last day he made his appearance on the verandah
of The Grand Stand for tea, with his faithful attendant at his heels, to
find his sister reclining there for the first time on a _charpoy_ well
lined with cushions, while Mrs. Ralston presided at the tea-table beside
her.

She looked the ghost of her former self, and for a moment though he had
visited her in bed only that morning, Tommy was rudely startled.

"Great Jupiter!" he ejaculated. "How ill you look!"

She smiled at his exclamation, while his small, sharp-faced companion
pricked up attentive ears. "Do people look like that when they're going
to die?" she asked.

"Not in the least, dear," said Mrs. Ralston tranquilly. "Come and speak