"I should so like to hear him sing. I'm so fond of singing," said Daisy plaintively.
"Now if we were in the back yard we could all sing," rejoined Josie. "But of course we couldn't in the street with everybody going by."
"Oh, no!" Yet there was a wistful longing in Daisy's face, that was beginning to look very tired.
There were not many people going through this street. Houston Street was quite a thoroughfare. But the few who did pass looked at the merry group of girls and at the pale invalid whose chair told the story, and gave them all a tender, sympathetic thought.
All except Lily Ludlow. She was rather curious about the girl in the chair and made an errand out to the Bowery. When Hanny saw who was coming she turned around and talked very eagerly to Elsie Hay, and pretended not to know it. Lily had her President, and Jim admired her, that was enough.
"You're very tired, Missy," Sam said presently.
"Yes," replied Daisy. "I think I'll go home now. And will you all come to see me to-morrow? Oh, it is so nice to know you all! And Pussy Gray is just angelic. Please bring him, too."
They said good-by. For some moments the little girls looked at each other with wordless sorrow in their eyes. I think there were tears as well.