Polly

nd her voice late that evening. "Wasn't father there? I th

w for a couple of days-not crying nor moaning, but very still, taking no no

ight said

. I want you to nurse her yourself, Nell, and to keep the others from the room. For the presen

never cries, she does not even moan. I think, father, what really upset Polly so was when she he

burst into fre

t was what quite broke Polly down-losing mother,

, quietly. "This alters the case. In a measure I can no

r and came in. He was a very tall man, and he had to stoop as he passed under the low, old-fashioned doorway, and as he walked across the room to Polly's bedside the rays of the setting sun fell on his face, and he looked more like a beautiful healing presence than ever to the child. She was lying on her

f Polly's moan, but sat quite still, looking out at the beautiful, glowing July sunset. Wondering at his stillness, Po

wn to tea. You are not ill, you know. Trouble, even great trouble, is not illness. By staying here in your room you are

crushed back her emotion. "I didn't want to get up," she said, "or to do an

n to tea to-night. I want you, and so does Helen, and so do the other girls and the lit

e the doctor reached the window he heard a bump on the floor; there was a hasty scrambling into clothes, and

id, giving her one of

ossed hair, nor the staine

nd they went down together to the old parlor where

n's taking her place, but the scene was new to the poor, sore-hearted child who now come in.

whispered. "You will

ed into a seat by her father, and crumbled her bread-and-butter, and gulped down some weak te

irls kept up such a chatter that, as he said, his voice would not be heard; now, on the contrary, he talked more than any one, telling the children one or two mo

s, boys, I don't want either of you to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is very steady, and poised i

caught two of them-darlings-I w

mson. All the others

d her father, suddenly and

ectingly through his arm, a

ticularly wish you to cry. Tears are natural, and you will feel much

't-I really ca

cherish and love. I think she thought specially of you, Polly, for you always have been specially fond of little ch

ds she found herself sitting in Nurse's little straw armchair, holding a tiny red mite of a baby on her knee. Mothe

n all about Polly and the baby. She held the wee bundle without clasping it to her, or bestowing upon it any endearing or comforting little touch, and

s motherly instincts awoke; she wiped her own tears from the baby's face, and raising it in her arms, pres

ut I am going to prescribe a special little supper for you, which Helen is to see you eat before you go to bed. Good-night, dear. Please ask Nurse, too,

to leave the room when

ul, dreadful dream since mother died. The most dreadfu

lly, yes

, father, and y

the trembling child, and drew he

before. "Not willingly, my child. It was with anguish I let your mother

r?" sai

He prescribed Re

ords of her father's. They calmed her great sorr