At last Bertie Fellowes thrust his Mother's letter into his friend's hand.
"Read it," he sobbed.
So Shivers made himself master of Mrs Fellowes' letter and understood the cause of the boy's outburst of grief.
"Old fellow," he said at last, "don't fret over it.

It might be worse.
Why, you might be like me, with your Father and Mother thousands of miles away.

When Aggie is better, you'll be able to go home--and it'll help your Mother if she thinks you are almost as happy as if you were at home.

It must be worse for her--she has cried ever so over this letter--see, it's all tear-blots." The troubles and disappointments of youth are bitter while they last, but they soon pass, and the sun shines again.

By the time Miss Ware, who was a kind-hearted, sensible, pleasant woman, came to tell Fellowes how sorry she was for him and his disappointment, the worst had gone by, and the boy was resigned to what could not be helped.
"Well, after all, one man's meat is another man's poison," she said, smiling down on the two boys; "poor Tom has been looking forward to spending his holidays all alone with us, and now he will have a friend with him.