"It's a long time since we've seen you," said Mr. Meadows. He spoke absently, and did not seem to observe how poorly Timothy was dressed.
"I've been in the country," said Timothy, "but the gentleman I worked for was burnt out last week."
"That's unfortunate," said Mr. Meadows. "There's more trouble in the world than there ought to be."
Timothy supposed that Mr. Meadows made this remark because he was out of employment, and he did not think it right to comment upon it. From a young lad to a grown man with a family it might savor of impertinence.
"I have just come back to London," he said, "and I was going to see Teddy."
"Were you?" The father's face brightened a little, then fell again. "He'll be glad to see you. He has often spoken of you, especially lately. My poor boy!" He almost broke down.
"He is very ill," replied Mr. Meadows, turning his head.
"Very ill?" said Timothy, with sudden terror.
"Very, very ill." He turned his face again to Timothy, grateful for the note of sympathy in the lad's voice, and then Timothy saw that his eyes were filled with tears.
"Oh, I am so sorry, so sorry!" said Timothy, unable to restrain his own tears. "Not seriously, Mr. Meadows; not seriously, I hope."
"Yes, seriously," said Mr. Meadows, sadly, and he laid a kind hand on Timothy's shoulder. "But go and see him. He will be glad." And saying this, and afraid to trust himself further, Mr. Meadows hurried away to his work.
Timothy walked slowly on, greatly shocked by the sorrowful news. Mr. Meadows's voice and manner denoted that he feared the worst. The worst? Yes, perhaps death.
It stirred Timothy's heart deeply; a wave of sorrow was passing over it, and he had never till this moment realized how much he loved the young friend who was lying in such peril. His own troubles were forgotten; he thought only of poor Teddy.
He quickened his steps, and soon reached Mr. Meadows's house. He was about to knock at the street door, when it opened, and a gentleman came from the house, saying to Mrs. Meadows, who stood on the door-step:
Timothy started, and looked after the doctor. Then he went up to Mrs. Meadows.
"Oh, Tim!" sobbed the woman, "my poor boy is dying!"
"Is the new-laid egg for Teddy?" asked Timothy, in a shaking voice.