"Poor child, I so solly for oo!" said Herbert, and Molly laughed
hysterically, then put her hands over her face, and sobbed as though her
heart would break. First, it was the oddity of being called "child" by
such a mere baby, then the thought that she had become an object of pity
to such an one.
"Don' ky," he said, pulling away her hand to kiss her cheek. "Herbie
didn't mean to make oo ky."
"Come, Herbie dear, let us go now; we mustn't tease poor sick cousin,"
whispered his sister Elsie, drawing him gently away.
"No, no! let him stay; let him love me," sobbed Molly. "He is a dear
little fellow," she added, returning his caresses, and wiping away her
tears.
"Herbie will love oo, poor old sing," he said, stroking her face, "and
mamma and papa, and all de folks will be ever so dood to oo."
Molly's laugh was more natural this time, and under its inspiring
influence, the little ones grew quite merry, really amusing her with their
prattle, till their mammy came to take them to bed.
Elsie was beginning to say good-night too, thinking there was danger of
wearying the invalid, but Molly said, "I don't wonder you want to leave
me; mother says nobody could like to stay with such a----" she broke off
suddenly, again hid her face in her hands and wept bitterly.
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