She most kindly offered to invite you, but, dear boy, she is an old lady, and so particular, and not used to boys, and she lives so far from anything which is going on that you would be able to go to nothing; so your Father and I came to the conclusion that the very best thing that you could do under the circumstances is for you to stay at Miss Ware's and for us to send your Christmas to you as well as we can.
It won't be like being at home, darling boy, but you will try and be happy--won't you, and make me feel that you are helping me in this dreadful time.
"Dear little Aggie is very ill, very ill indeed.

We have two nurses.
Nora and Connie are shut away in the morning-room and to the back stairs and their own rooms with Miss Ellis, and have not seen us since the dear child was first taken ill.

Tell your young friend that I am sending you a hamper from Buzzard's, with double of everything, and I am writing to Miss Ware to ask her to take you both to anything that may be going on in Cross Hampton.

And tell him that it makes me so much happier to think that you won't be alone.
"Your Own Mother.
"This letter will smell queer, darling: it will be fumigated before posting." It must be owned that when Bertie Fellowes received this letter, which was neither more nor less than a shattering of all his Christmas hopes and joys, that he fairly broke down, and, hiding his face upon his arms as they rested on his desk, sobbed aloud.
The forlorn boy from India, who sat next to him, tried every boyish means of consolation that he could think of.

He patted his shoulder, whispered many pitying words, and, at last, flung his arm across him and hugged him tightly, as, poor little chap, he himself many times since his arrival in England had wished someone would do to him.