His stomach was well enough, he said.
It was his head which ached, and nothing would help that like the touch of the cool little hands he had held in his the previous day.

Charles must go for Jerry--go at once, for he wanted her, and as when Arthur wanted a thing he wanted it immediately, Charles was soon on his way to the cottage in the lane, where he found the little girl under a tall lilac bush, busy with the mud pies she was making, and talking to herself, partly in English and partly in broken German, which she had resumed since visiting the park.
'Seemed like something I had dreamed, when he talked like that, and I could almost do it myself,' she said to Harold when describing the particulars of her interview with Mr.Tracy, and her tongue fell naturally into the language of her babyhood.
On hearing Charles' errand, her delight was unbounded.
'Iss.

You'll let me go,' she cried, as she stood before Mrs.Crawford, with the mud-spots on her hands and face; 'and you'll let me wear my best gown now, and my white apron with the shoulder-straps, and my morocco shoes, because this visiting.' As Mrs.Crawford could see no objection to the plan, Jerry was soon dressed, and on her way to the Park House, which seemed to her to be a very palace, and until the day before a place to be looked upon with awe, and admired breathlessly at a distance.

Indeed, she had sometimes, when passing near the house, walked on tiptoe, as if on sacred ground, and held back her humble dress lest it should harm a shrub or vine by contact.

But matters now were changed.