One day, Milly's papa brought in a poor little motherless lamb from the field, nearly dead with cold and hunger.
To the great delight of the invalid child, it was wrapped in flannel and laid in a basket before the nursery fire, to be fed and warmed by her loving hands. What joy when the stiffened limbs began to move and the eyes to open!
"May I have it for my own?" cried Milly in ecstasy. "Oh, you darling!" she whispered. "You are much better than the sugar lamb I gave away at Christmas. I shall call you Daisy, because you are white and your eyes shine so brightly."
So Daisy grew and flourished, until he was too big to visit Millicent in the nursery any more. Fan, the black retriever, having been bereaved of her puppies, had taken kindly to the motherless stranger, and given it a warm welcome. The two would lie curled up in the straw together, in a snug corner of the stable; and on warm days, Daisy was tethered on the lawn in sight of the nursery window.
This new object of interest, and many indoor pleasures, planned by the thoughtful love of her parents, reconciled Milly to a necessary imprisonment of months; and she no longer looked with envy at Clarice and her sturdy brothers, equipped for walking or riding. They paid many a visit to the widow's humble dwelling, to take little delicacies to Corrie, and such cheer and brightness as would make the small pale face light up with a glow of pleasure whenever she heard the patter of their footsteps.
And all this joy had its beginning in Corrie's happy Christmas!
At the close of March, after a week of mild damp weather, there dawned a day of such rare sunshine and blue sky that the nursery windows at Oaklands were thrown open, and nurse looked in vain for the captive bird. For while she was engaged elsewhere, and mamma had baby in the drawing room, papa had been upstairs and stolen his white dove, as he called his delicate child. What fun to get out hat and jacket surreptitiously from the wardrobe, and the warm shawl to wrap over all, and the little boots that had not been on for so long! Milly laughed a merry laugh as she ran up and down on the smooth gravel path, holding her father's hand, while mamma smiled approvingly through the window with baby on her knee.
"You will carry me down to the wood, won't you, papa, when they are in sight? What will Corrie say when she sees the primroses?"
"Why, there are the boys, Milly; come along, little woman, we shall be in plenty of time." And papa's long legs went quickly over fields and ditches by a cross-cut to the meeting-point.
"Hurrah!" shouted Alfred and Arthur. "Look at Milly and papa! Make haste, Robin!"