Stay! I will find it for you." He was searching about for his handkerchief.

Lucy found it, fallen on the floor at the back of the sofa.

She brought it round to him, and he gently laid hold of her hand as he took it.
[Illustration: "He gently laid hold of her hand."] "My little friend, you have yet to learn that _things_, not years, tire us of life." Lucy shook her head.
"No; I have not to learn it.

I know it must be so.

Will you _please_ to come to the window ?" Lionel, partly because his tormentor (may the word be used?
he was sick, bodily and mentally, and would have lain still for ever) was a young lady, partly to avoid the trouble of persisting in "No," rose, and took his seat in the arm-chair.
"What an obstinate nurse you would make, Lucy! Is there anything else, pray, that you wish me to do ?" She did not smile in response to his smile; she looked very grave and serious.
"I would do all that Jan says, were I you," was her answer.