It would have been funny, Jo thought, if she hadn't known he was so miserable. Next to her on the couch in a quaint sitting room, the Doctor sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Jo had given him back his cloak, and additionally, a quilt had been thrown over his shoulders. While he appreciated the gesture, Jo also knew that is dignity was bruised from his failure to command the situation. It was for that reason that he was glowering.

"She's a very nice woman," Jo commented innocently. "She is only trying to help, and a cup of tea does sound lovely."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her moodily. "I honestly cannot sneeze anymore without people thinking I've got the dratted Plague," he muttered. "I've had enough of being treated like an invalid."

"But it did get us inside, after all." She looked down at the floor, and then peeked up at him. "I'm sorry."

In an attempt to maintain his air of gloom, the Doctor avoided eye contact for a moment. However, as soon as their eyes met, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He sighed. "All right, I concede." He lifted his arm, inviting her to share the oversized quilt. She scooted closer, and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

There came a sudden ruckus from the kitchen, and the Doctor and Jo both looked up as a young boy stormed irritably into the sitting room. Jo would have guessed him to be about ten or eleven, though his behavior might suggest that he was two or three as he stomped his stocking feet in anger.

"I said I don't want any tea! I keep telling you I don't like, tea, Mum! Adelaide likes tea; I don't! I-" The boy froze at the sudden realization that there were two strangers in the sitting room. It was obvious to Jo that he had not been aware of their arrival, and after a brief moment of staring in surprise, cheeks turning red, he took off up a flight of stairs and was quickly out of sight.

Jo was about to comment when Mrs. Redbarrow entered the room carrying a try with a teapot, five teacups, a sugar bowl, a bottle of milk, and some teaspoons. As she set it on the coffee table, Jo made an offer to pour the tea, to which the woman didn't protest, and instead sat tiredly in the loveseat opposite her guests.

"I'm sorry about James storming through like that. He's not been himself lately." she apologized. "Thank you, sweetheart. You don't need to mind the fourth cup. I brought it out in case my husband shows up."

"Right," said Jo. She paused, giving the cups another count. "Not the fifth cup either, I assume. In case James changes is mind?" When Mrs. Redbarrow bowed her head and put a hand over her eyes, Jo suddenly realized who the last cup was really for, and regretted asking. "I'm-"

The Doctor put a hand on Jo's shoulder and shook his head. There was a box of tissues in front of him which he helpfully slid across the coffee table to their host, and they waited in silence for her to compose herself.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Redbarrow apologized again, dabbing at her eyes.

"No need to apologize, madam," the Doctor responded graciously. "We're sorry to have said something to upset you."

The woman shook her head. "No, it's not your fault. You don't seem to be from around here, so you wouldn't know that my daughter, Adelaide, has been missing for several days. When I heard you at the door, I thought you might have been the police coming to tell me that... I mean, after missing for so long... She's only six. I should be out there!"

"Nonsense," the Doctor objected gently, "Someone has to be here to look after your son. He needs you, too."

"I just feel so useless," she lamented. "What would you do if your daughter was missing?" she indicated Jo.

Jo spoke up, "Oh, I'm not his daughter. I'm his-"

"Niece," the Doctor interjected. "We haven't been properly introduced, have we. I'm Doctor John Smith, and this is my niece, Jo."

"Anne Redbarrow," she introduced herself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed..."

Proper introductions didn't distract their host from her troubles, however. As she covered her face again, Jo set down her tea and made to go comfort her. The Doctor, however, held out a hand to stop her. "Let me," he mouthed soundlessly. He shed the blanked and stepped around the coffee table.

"Mrs. Redbarrow?" She looked up at him, and he gestured to the seat beside her. "May I?"

With her consent, he sat down with his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. "I can see that you're terribly stressed, which can only be expected given the circumstances." The woman sniffed, and the Doctor plucked a tissue from the box on the coffee table. "I'm a doctor," he continued, handing it to her. "I can't help but worry that all this stress is making you ill. With your permission, I'd like to do a quick assessment of your health. It's the least I can do after you've been so kind to Jo and myself."

Mrs. Redbarrow considered the offer for a moment. "Well, all right. As long as it's brief."

"Good," the Doctor said. "It'll only be a moment." He reached into is pocket and pulled out a small penlight. He shined the light in her eyes and ears and checked her throat. Then, he found her pulse on her wrist and monitored it for a minute against his watch. Finally, he placed a hand on her forehead, all the while wearing a contemplative frown.

The Doctor tutted and shook his head. "You haven't slept since your daughter went missing, have you? You're nerves are wound tight as piano wire." He looked at her sympathetically. "I know it seems impossible to do at the moment, but if you can at all manage, you really need some rest. Judging by your son's outburst earlier, he's suffering from stress as well. I would suggest a glass of warm milk and a nap for him, and a cup of chamomile tea and a lie down for you, if you get the chance."

Mrs. Redbarrow nodded rather distractedly. The Doctor smiled kindly and patted her hand before standing up. "We shan't keep you any longer, madam. It's time we were on our way."

"But, Doctor, Bessie still won't start," Jo pointed out.

"Ah. Yes." The Doctor touched the back of his neck sheepishly. "We're still out of petrol."

"There may be a can in the garage with enough to get you to a station," Mrs. Redbarrow offered. "You're welcome to have a look." She stood up and gathered the tea tray.