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           NextyearperhapsIcansendyoutoschool—you’dlikethat,wouldn’tyou?"

           "Idomisstheotherchaps,rather,"Peterconfessed;"butifJimcouldstayafterhislegwaswell,wecouldhaveawfullarks."

           "I’venodoubtofit,"saidMother."Well—perhapshecould,butyouknow,dear,we’renotrich.Ican’taffordtogethimeverythinghe’llwant.Andhemusthaveanurse."

           "Can’tyounursehim,Mother?Youdonursepeoplesobeautifully."

           "That’saprettycompliment,Pete—butIcan’tdonursingandmywritingaswell.That’stheworstofit."

           "ThenyouMUSTsendthelettertohisgrandfather?"

           "Ofcourse—andtohisschoolmaster,too.Wetelegraphedtothemboth,butImustwriteaswell.They’llbemostdreadfullyanxious."

           "Isay,Mother,whycan’thisgrandfatherpayforanurse?"Petersuggested."Thatwouldberipping.Iexpecttheoldboy’srollinginmoney.Grandfathersinbooksalwaysare."

           "Well,thisoneisn’tinabook,"saidMother,"sowemustn’texpecthimtorollmuch."

           "Isay,"saidPeter,musingly,"wouldn’titbejollyifweallWEREinabook,andyouwerewritingit?Thenyoucouldmakeallsortsofjollythingshappen,andmakeJim’slegsgetwellatonceandbeallrightto-morrow,andFathercomehomesoonand—"

           "DoyoumissyourFatherverymuch?"Motherasked,rathercoldly,Peterthought.