but it was not one of the kind when he has to have poultices and can't sit up in bed. But when it had been in his head nearly a week, Oswald happened to tumble over Alice on the stairs. When we got up she was crying.
"Don't cry silly!" said Oswald; "you know I didn't hurt you." I was very sorry if I had hurt her, but you ought not to sit on the stairs in the dark and let other people tumble over you. You ought to remember how beastly it is for them if they do hurt you.
"Oh, it's not that, Oswald," Alice said. "Don't be a pig! I am so miserable. Do be kind to me."
So Oswald thumped her on the back and told her to shut up.
"It's about Noël," she said. "I'm sure he's very ill; and playing about with medicines is all very well, but I know he's ill, and Eliza won't send for the doctor: she says it's only a cold. And I know the doctor's bills are awful. I heard Father telling Aunt Emily so in the summer. But he is ill, and perhaps he'll die or something."
Then she began to cry again. Oswald thumped her again, because he knows how a good brother ought to behave, and said, "Cheer up." If we had been in a book
