"Oh, it's the new little girl that's come," replied Eddie, with cheerful unconcern. "And she won't stop crying. I've showed her Tatters and my Noah's Ark and the gray kitten; and 'tisn't any use—she's such a silly!"
"Oh! dear!" exclaimed Nora. "I must go down at once." And, hurriedly re-arranging her hair and dress, she ran down-stairs, followed by Eddie.
On the rug outside the drawing-room door crouched the little girl, shaken by a storm of passionate sobs. She had borne the separation from her weak and passive mother, with a quiet resignation mainly produced by the doctor's assurance that if she were good and did not worry her mother, who was going where she would be made better, she should soon see her again. The grave quietude which the child had maintained with a great effort had not given way, until Dr. Blanchard, in haste to reach an urgent "case," had put her inside his own door in charge of a servant. Then, the strangeness of everything about her, and the blank loneliness of the situation, from her point of view, had apparently so oppressed her, that the unnatural composure gave way before a tornado of passionate abandonment. Mrs. Blanchard was out, but the nurse had tried her best to console and divert her, and so had Eddie and Daisy; but so far without avail. Nora could hardly help smiling, as she remembered her programme for the children's relation to each other, and saw how it had been reversed.
The plump little Daisy stood over her, looking concerned, but holding out her gray kitten as if it were the olive-branch of peace, while the neglected inhabitants of Noah's Ark lay in picturesque confusion in the background.
When Miss Blanchard appeared, however, matters changed a little, as she bent over the sobbing child with loving words and gestures, pushed aside the old hood and shawl, and smoothed the tangled mass of dark, curly hair, till the sobs grew fainter and the child allowed herself to be raised from the floor. Under the uncouth disguise of her outer raiment, now removed, she wore a neatly-made, though faded, print frock; which, though evidently outgrown, was whole and clean; and, for the first time, Miss Blanchard realized her unusual beauty of face and form, with the pleasure of one keenly sensitive to beauty of all kinds.
She had heard from Lizzie that "Cissy" was passionately fond of music, and the happy thought occurred to her of taking her into the drawing-room, and playing to her some sweet and simple melodies that were favorites of her own. The experiment succeeded beyond her hopes. The child listened like one entranced. Her large, soft, lustrous eyes dilated, and her whole face seemed lighted with a new expression, as she followed with evident appreciation every change of the music. It was as if the delight of listening absorbed her whole being. Then, as Nora began to sing to her, her delight seemed to increase. A dawning smile relaxed the sad curves of her lips, a dewy moisture suffused the lovely dark-gray eyes. It was clear, Miss Blanchard thought, that she had discovered here a musical soul.
"Does your mother sing to you sometimes?" she asked.
"Not much," said the child. "She likes me to sing to her, best."
"Sing to me now, then," replied Nora.
But the child was too shy. That evening, however, when she was alone with the other children in the nursery, Nora heard her trying to hum over the airs of the songs she had sung to her, with wonderful accuracy and sweetness of tone. This discovery set her castle-building at once. There was no knowing what musical talent this little one might develop! And if she could aid her to develop it, she would thus help one girl, at least, out of the weary monotony of poorly paid and unremitting toil.