"The mercury's got into your head!" he exclaimed, turning back to
examine his young friend's countenance. "It IS a hot day! How do you
feel? Got any pain? When did you begin to feel that way?"

He put his big hand on the little boy's hair. This was more embarrassing
than ever.

"Thank you," said Ceddie; "I'm all right. There is nothing the matter
with my head. I'm sorry to say it's true, Mr. Hobbs. That was what Mary
came to take me home for. Mr. Havisham was telling my mamma, and he is a
lawyer."

Mr. Hobbs sank into his chair and mopped his forehead with his
handkerchief.

"ONE of us has got a sunstroke!" he exclaimed.

"No," returned Cedric, "we haven't. We shall have to make the best of
it, Mr. Hobbs. Mr. Havisham came all the way from England to tell us
about it. My grandpapa sent him."

Mr. Hobbs stared wildly at the innocent, serious little face before him.

"Who is your grandfather?" he asked.

Cedric put his hand in his pocket and carefully drew out a piece of
paper, on which something was written in his own round, irregular hand.

"I couldn't easily remember it, so I wrote it down on this," he