'He assured us that you would be kind enough to receive
those who would only be an encumbrance.'
'Oh, but I must go back to Frank now that you and the children are
safe,' cried the poor lady. 'Don't send away the carriage; I must
go back to Frank.'
'Nonsense, my dear,' returned Mr. Fordyce, 'Frank is in no danger.
He will get on much better for knowing you are safe. Mrs. Winslow
will tell you so.'
My mother was enforcing this assurance, when the little girl's sobs
burst out in spite of her sister, who had been trying to console
her. 'It is Celestina Mary,' she cried, pointing to three dolls
whom she had carried in clasped to her breast. 'Poor Celestina
Mary! She is left behind, and Ellen won't let me go and see if she
is in the carriage.'
'My dear, if she is in the carriage, she will be quite safe in the
morning.'
'Oh, but she will be so cold. She had nothing on but Rosella's old
petticoat.'
The distress was so real that I had my hand on the bell to cause a
search to be instituted for the missing damsel, when Mrs. Fordyce
begged me to do no such thing, as it was only a doll. The child,
while endeavouring to shelter with a shawl the dolls, snatched in
their night-gear from their beds, wept so piteously at the rebuff
that her grandfather had nearly gone in quest of the lost one, but
was stopped by a special entreaty that he would not spoil the child.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149