TEDDY was all alone, for his mother had been up with him so much the
night before that at about four o'clock in the afternoon she said that
she was going to lie down for a little while.

The room where Teddy lay was very pleasant, with two big windows, and
the furniture covered with gay old-fashioned India calico. His mother
had set a glass of milk on the table beside his bed, and left the stair
door ajar so that he could call Hannah, the cook, if he wanted anything,
and then she had gone over to her own room.

The little boy had always enjoyed being ill, for then he was read aloud
to and had lemonade, but this had been a real illness, and though he was
better now, the doctor still would not let him have anything but milk
and gruel. He was feeling rather lonely, too, though the fire crackled
cheerfully, and he could hear Hannah singing to herself in the kitchen
below.

Teddy turned over the leaves of Robinson Crusoe for a while, looking at
the gaily colored pictures, and then he closed it and called, "Hannah!"
The singing in the kitchen below ceased, and Teddy knew that Hannah was
listening. "Hannah!" he called again.

At the second call Hannah came hurrying up the stairs and into the room.
"What do you want, Teddy?" she asked.

"Hannah, I want to ask mamma something," said Teddy.

"Oh," said Hannah, "you wouldn't want me to call your poor mother, would
you, when she was up with you the whole of last night and has just gone