"Like what?" Jim was puzzled. The boy was by no means mad, yet he talked in a manner quite beyond the comprehension of a sane person. Jim had never met anyone like him before and was much taken up with the oddity of the case from a medical point of view.
"I can't explain; you would not understand," said Sidney. "Please leave me alone, Dr. Herrick."
At this moment Bess called to Jim from the other side of the room and he hurried across to her. Sidney remained vaguely staring into nothingness. After a time his eyes closed and he looked as though he were fast asleep. The others gathered round the tea table, and prepared to eat. Bess would not allow her brother to be awakened.
"It makes him ill if he is roused suddenly," she said. "He will wake up himself and be all right."
"It doesn't look to me like a natural sleep," said Jim anxiously. "How pale he is! Don't you think----"
"No," said Ida sharply, "I agree with Bess. Sidney had better be left alone. He gets into these states at times. Let us have tea. I am so hungry, and it's past five."
"A quarter past," said Stephen glancing at his watch.
They began to eat and drink, laughing and enjoying themselves. No one took any notice of Sidney, and even Jim's attention was distracted. The boy remained on the sofa, leaning back, white as snow, and drawing long deep breaths. He looked like a dead person.
After a time the conversation languished. The tea was done, the food was finished, and they talked about packing up to go. "Poor Sidney's tea is quite cold," said Ida. "I really think we might wake him now. Oh, he is coming to himself. Wake up Sidney, and have some tea. It is nearly six and we must be getting home."
The boy's face had now a delicate pink tinge on it, and he seemed more himself than he had been when he fell asleep. For a moment he was silent. Then he looked slowly round at those who were present, until his blue eyes fixed themselves calmly on Stephen.
"Mr. Marsh!" he said quietly, "you had better go home. Your mother is dead."
Ida gave a cry and Stephen turned pale. Bess alone retained sufficient presence of mind to cross over to the boy and shake him, "Sidney, what do you mean by saying such a horrible thing."
"It is true," replied the boy quietly, "Mrs. Marsh is dead. I have just seen her. She died at half-past five. Go home Stephen."