My Young Days | Page 5

was Mary Emily Marshall, commonly called Sissy, and I knew that my papa was "the gentleman that makes all the sick people well,"--"or tries to," Jane would add. I never did. Of course, if my papa tried to do anything he did it. That was my doctrine. We lived quite down in the country among the poor people, and we were not rich ourselves. Mamma had been born in this beautiful park, and I know now, though I did not then, that it was a great trouble at the Park when she married the country doctor, who loved the poor people so much that he would not leave them to grow rich and honoured as a London physician. But there was no grandpapa left now to be angry; and grandmamma, though we had never seen her, we had always loved for the beautiful presents she sent us.
There were only three of us at this time--my little self; Bobbie, a boy of four years old, boasting of the fattest, rosiest cheeks in the world; and wee Willie, the white-faced, fretful baby of six months. Oh, how well I remember the old house, with its great lamp hanging out over the lonely road, and shining among the trees, to show the villagers the way up to their good, kind friend the doctor. Many were the blessings we little ones used to get as we passed down the village street, and we owed them all to our father's goodness.
Happy times we had of it, Bobbie and I, in that old house at the top of the hill. I don't think any little brothers and sisters were ever quite such good friends. There were three years between us, but I was little and he was big, so nobody guessed it, and we played together, and never thought which was the elder. The great treat of the day was the game with papa in the evening, but that couldn't be counted upon. Very often he would have to leave the dinner-table suddenly, and when we heard his peculiar slam of the hall-door before the bell rang to summon us down, we knew that we had lost our game, and we comforted ourselves by telling each other that papa had gone to see some little sick child like baby Willie, and to make him quite well; and then we would make up our minds to a good quiet game by ourselves.
[Illustration: PAPA AND MAMMA.]
We used to take turns, he playing at doll with me one time, and I playing at horses with him next time. How well I remember my hairless, eyeless doll, and all the pleasure she gave us! And good-natured old nurse was quite willing, whenever Willie was a little better than usual, to work wonders with dolly's toilet. One week she would be a fine, grand lady, to whom Bobby would act footman and I lady's-maid. Next week, she was a soldier fighting grand battles, and lying dead on the battle-field at last, with a patch of red paint on the forehead, and we two singing dirges and songs of victory; and then, all of a sudden, the soldier was turned into a baby, with long white clothes and the prettiest of caps.
The day that grandmamma's letter came, asking for "one of the dear children to stay with her," dolly was just learning to walk. We were having our firelight play before tea. I had tied up my curls to look like a grown woman's hair, and I had papa's umbrella to keep the rain off dolly in her first walk. Bobbie had papa's hat and stick, and he held Rosalinda's other hand. I was just telling him not to walk so fast, because his long strides would tire our little girl, when I heard papa's voice calling me.
In a minute more I was standing between his knees, and mamma was watching my face as I tried to take in the idea of this first visit.
"Jane shall go with you, my darling--you will not be all alone," said mamma; "indeed, you shall not go at all if you had rather not, but grandmamma wants to have you."
And then papa added a great deal about seeing the place where mamma lived when she was my age, and told me that I should come back with such rosy cheeks. And all the while I was thinking of the new doll's-house that grandmamma would give me perhaps. The thought of this took me back to Rosalinda, and I felt sure that Bobbie would let her fall if I didn't be quick and go to him. So I said, "Yes, I will go," very much in a hurry, and was ever so glad to get away and run upstairs again.
"Queer little fish!" I heard papa say as