Mostly Mary

"Dickie-Bird, have you seen our Goldilocks?" asked a deep voice at the door of the playroom.

"Here I am, Father!" and a dear little girl, half hidden by the window curtains, dropped the doll which she had been hugging and ran into Mr. Selwyn's arms. "I'm so glad you are here! Everything has been so-so different this morning. Liza came, instead of Aunt Mandy, to call me and help me to dress and then she told me to wait here for you, and--and--"

"And you thought Father had forgotten his little lass, eh?"

"I didn't quite think that, Father; but I was beginning to feel lonely, because I had to stay here instead of running right down to have breakfast with you and Mother and Uncle Frank."

"I see. Are you often lonely, pet?" asked her father, stroking the bright hair which fell in a mass of ringlets on her shoulders.

"Not very often, Father,-just sometimes, when you and Mother and Uncle Frank all go out to dinner or to a concert or something like that. Then-then I can't help wishing that God hadn't taken my little brothers to heaven. Of course, it's lovely for them to be there; but it would be so nice to have someone to play with all the time-not just sometimes, the way it is when Evelyn and Hazel and Rosemary come to see me. Mother says that Robert would be five years old, and Francis, three; and oh! we would have the best times! I wouldn't mind if they broke my dolls once in a while. Hazel won't let her little brother touch one of hers. But I think a really, truly, live brother is better to play with than all the dolls in the world. I would never be lonely if I had one."

"Well, pet, I think I can truly say that you will never be lonely again," and taking Mary's frail little hand, Mr. Selwyn led her out into the hall.

She thought they were going to breakfast, and looked up in surprise when they passed the head of the stairs. Her father smiled in a knowing fashion, and paused before the closed door of a sitting-room next to her mother's bedroom.

"Oh, have you a s'prise for me, Father?" whispered the little girl, clasping his hand with both of hers.

"A most beautiful surprise, dear. Perhaps you would like to guess what it is."

Mary looked very thoughtful for some moments; then, "It can't be a new doll, because Uncle Frank brought me one yesterday; and it can't be a letter from Aunt Mary, because that would be under my plate at the table. Besides, those things wouldn't make this morning so different from every other morning, and I can't think of a single thing that would."

"Then we had better waste no more time."

Her father opened the door, and Mary looked eagerly about the room, but could see nothing that had not been there the night before. Mr. Selwyn whispered quickly, "Sit in that big chair, and I shall bring the surprise to you."

He tiptoed into her mother's room, and a moment later, Aunt Mandy, her colored nurse, came out, carefully carrying a white bundle. Mr. Selwyn followed with one just like it.

"Dah yo' is, honey! But yo' ole mammy is 'fraid it am too hebby fo' yo'," chuckled Aunt Mandy, placing her bundle on Mary's lap.

"Oh! oh! oh! See, Father, it's a baby!" whispered the little girl. "A dear, sweet, darling, really, truly, live baby! Oh!"

"And see what I have," laughed her father, seating himself in a chair beside her.

"Another baby! Oh! oh! oh!"

"Twins, ma bressed lamb! Dat's what dey is!" declared old Auntie.

"Whose are they, Father?"

"Why, ours, pet,-our very own-your little twin sisters."

"My-little-twin-sisters! Both of them mine! Oh, isn't God good! I have been asking Him for a little sister ever since He sent Rosemary one; but I never dreamed that He would give me two-never! Isn't He good!" and Mary lightly kissed the lips, cheeks, forehead, eyes, and even the nose of the mite she hugged. "Please take this one, Aunt Mandy, and let me love that one a few minutes."

"You will find this little lady somewhat heavier," warned her father. "Better let me help you hold her."

"There!" said Mary with a happy sigh, "I gave her just as many as this one," holding up her arms for the baby which Aunt Mandy held; "for, of course, I love them both exactly the same. And, Aunt Mandy, you must not bother about me any more. You won't have time, you know. I can dress my own self, all except the buttons 'way up between my shoulders; and I can wash my neck and ears clean, too."

"Bress yo' li'l heart, honey! Does yo' think fo' one instinct dat yo' ole mammy is gwine to let yo' git yo' curls all wet, an' kotch yo' def ob cold dat-a-way? An' who's gwine to bresh de tangles out'n dem curls, I lak to know?"

"But I can wear my rubber cap when I am washing my neck and ears, just as I did when I went in bathing at the seashore. I suppose, though, that someone will have to help me with my hair. Oh, I know just the thing! I can have it cut off, and then I can fix it my own self."

"What's dat! what's dat yo's sayin', Miss May-ree! Cut off dem curls? No, sah! Dey ain't gwine to be no hair-cuttin' round heah! Aunt Mandy's gwine to tek de bes' ob care ob all her li'l bressed lambs; she sho' am!"

"Well, well! what does big sister think about all this?" whispered Doctor Carlton, Mrs. Selwyn's brother, coming into the room as Aunt Mandy left it. "Is her nose out of joint, Rob?"

"My nose, Uncle Frank?" echoed Mary, lifting a happy little face for his good-morning kiss. "It doesn't pain at all, so I'm sure it can't be out of joint. When I put my thumb out of joint, it pained dreadfully until you fixed it for me."

"No, Frank, there is no room for anything here but pure joy. She has been asking God to give her one little sister, and He has sent her two; so her cup of happiness is full to the brim."

"Do you think they will wake soon, Father? I want to see what color their eyes are. What are their names?"

"We think of calling the one you have Elizabeth after Mother. She has blue eyes and will probably resemble Mother just as you do."

"And the little heavy-weight in your father's arms has very dark eyes like his, so she must be named for him-Roberta. Elizabeth and Roberta-can you improve on those names?"

"They are just the loveliest ones I know; but-but--"

"Out with it," insisted the Doctor.

"Don't you-don't you think they are--well, just a little bit too big for such teeny, weeny babies?"

"They are rather imposing names for such mites," agreed Mr. Selwyn, "but the babies will grow up to fit them, you know."

"Perhaps we might shorten them to Betty and Bobbie for the present," proposed the Doctor, with a twinkle in his eye.

"But Bobbie is a boy's name; and Mother told me a story about a naughty little girl named Betty, so I wouldn't like to call my little sister by such a name. Let-me-see. E-liz-a-beth.... Oh, I know! We can call this one Beth until she is big; and that one-," Mary knit her brows in deep thought, "how would Berta do?"

"Berta and Beth-capital!" declared the Doctor; and Mr. Selwyn agreed with him.

"When will they be baptized, Father?"

"Next Sunday, probably."

"To-day is Tuesday.

'Monday's child is fair of face, 'Tuesday's child is full of grace,'"

sang the little girl, softly.

"Have you decided on the godparents, Rob?"

"We think of asking Phil and Etta Marvin-Wilhelmina's father and mother, Mary. You remember the little girl whose photograph Uncle brought you from Georgia last spring."

"The one with seven brothers?"

"Yes, dear, that is Wilhelmina Marvin. Uncle and I went to college with her father, and Aunt Mary and her mother were little girls together."

"You must meet Wilhelmina one of these days. She is a great girl-climbs trees, rides horseback like a little Indian, and is as much a boy as any one of her brothers. The next time I go to Sunnymead, I shall take you with me."

"Father and Mother and Berta and Beth must come, too, Uncle."

"That is understood, pet."

"Will you please take this baby-I mean Beth, for a few minutes?"

"Certainly, dear. Your poor little arms must be quite tired."

"Oh, no, Uncle! Why, I am sure that I could hold both babies all day long without being tired. I shall be back in just a little minute," and Mary slipped away, leaving the two men to wonder where she had gone.

Back to the playroom she flew, caught up her two prettiest dolls, and was hurrying from the room when she paused.

"I'm afraid they might hurt themselves with these. I had better take soft things."

She walked about among her toys, choosing first one, then another, until her father began to think that she was not coming back. When at last she entered the sitting-room, he and the Doctor had quite a time to keep from laughing aloud at sight of her with her pet white kitten, a rubber doll in a gay worsted suit, a big, brightly-colored rubber ball, and a Teddy bear almost as large as herself clasped in her arms.

"I was afraid they might think we don't want them if there is nothing for them to play with when they wake," she explained.

"So you are going to share your toys with them, are you?" and Mr. Selwyn put his arm about her, drawing her to his knee.

"Of course, Father. They can have everything of mine that they want; but most of my dolls are hard ones that might hurt them. I shall save those until they are older. Snowball and Teddy and these other things are nice and soft, you see."

"God bless her!" murmured the Doctor, a mist gathering in his eyes. "No jealousy here; that is certain."

"You have made a very wise choice, pet; but see these tiny fingers. Don't you think that they will have to grow stronger before they can hold even such lovely, soft things? These little folks will be so busy taking naps, you know, that they will not have time to play with toys for some months."

"Why, I forgot all about that," laughed Mary. "You see, Father, I was such a little bit of a thing when Robert was a baby; and Francis stayed with us only a few days, so that I don't know very much about babies. I hope Berta and Beth will stay a long, long time," she added wistfully.

"God grant that they may, darling," said her father, earnestly; for he had felt keenly the loss of his two infant sons.

"There is just one thing that would make everything nicer," said Mary after a long pause.

"And that is--?" inquired the Doctor.

"One more baby."

"But I thought you were more than satisfied with two," laughed her father.

"But if there were three, Father, we could name one Francis after Uncle Frank. That is a boy's name and a girl's name, too; so it wouldn't make a bit of difference whether the baby was a boy or a girl."

The Doctor, greatly touched by the child's love for him, drew her to him, saying, "But one baby was named for me, little one, and I surely cannot expect more than that."

"Oh, I know the very thing! We can buy a Chinese baby for five dollars and name it Francis! Sister told us about it in school last spring; and we gave her all our pennies, and she sent them away to buy a poor little baby so it would be baptized; and we named it Mary for our Blessed Mother. Of course, we could never see the baby that we buy, but-but-well, when it dies, it will go to heaven-that is, if it keeps on being good when it grows up. But I know something else. When Evelyn's big sister was confirmed, she took another name. So when I am confirmed, I shall take Frances; and then I shall be your little girl more than ever."

"All my names could not make you any more my little girl than you are now, pet. But come; it is time you had some breakfast. These little folks intend to take a long sleep this morning."

"Father! Let us call up Aunt Mary after breakfast and tell her the s'prise. Do you think we could take the babies out to see her this afternoon?"

"They are very young for so long a trip, dear. Liza shall take you out to Maryvale, and you may tell Aunt Mary everything that you forget to say over the telephone."

"Will Mother be awake after breakfast?" asked the little girl, with a longing look toward the door of the next room.

"I shall tell Aunt Mandy to send for you the moment she opens her eyes."

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