"Oh, I will--I'll go myself, to make sure of him. Which one is Johnny?"

"Johnny's the red-headed one," said Chip.

"But--they're ALL--"

"Yes, but his head is several shades redder than any of the others,"
interrupted he, quite cheerfully.

The Little Doctor, observing the twinkle in his eyes, felt her spirits
rise wonderfully. She could not bear that hurt, rebellious, lonely look
which they had worn.

"I'll bring him--but I may have to chloroform the Countess to get him
into the house. You must try to sleep, while I'm gone--and don't fret--
will you? You'll get well all the quicker for taking things easily."

Chip smiled faintly at this wholesome advice, and the Little Doctor laid
her hand shyly upon his forehead to test its temperature, drew down the
shade over the south window, and left him in dim, shadowy coolness to
sleep.

She came again before she started for Johnny, and found him wide awake
and staring hungrily at the patch of blue sky visible through the window
which faced the East.

"You'll have to learn to obey orders better than this," she said,
severely, and took quiet possession of his wrist. "I told you not
to fret about being hurt. I know you hate it--"