"But, mamma, I shall miss you so."
"And I shall miss you, my pet." They hugged each other, but when Eleanor felt tears splash down from other eyes than her own she squeezed her mother tighter and said: "Please don't cry, mamma, I will be very good, I will so."
"Thank you for the promise, dear. If papa sees you are bright and cheerful about our going it will make him feel easier, and so will help him to get well the sooner. See what a baby your mamma is. I must not go before papa with such teary eyes."
"With blue eyes trimmed with red," said Eleanor laughing. "Let me go tell him that I don't mind so very, very much, and—oh mamma, is there a baby?"
"You mean among Cousin Ellen's children? Yes, there is a little girl about a year and a half old."
"I shall like that. I love babies." And with this Eleanor left the room to go to her father.
The next few days were full of excitement, for the packing and arranging required Mrs. Dallas' constant attention. Mrs. Murdoch was not to arrive till the evening of the day which saw Mr. and Mrs. Dallas take their departure. Eleanor kept up bravely till she saw the carriage turn the corner and then she sobbed unrestrainedly. It was not only that it wrung her heart to see her father come hobbling on crutches out of the house, but he looked so pale and thin that the thought of being separated from him and from her mother was more than she could bear. Never before did she remember having her mother parted from her for any length of time, certainly a week, at the furthest, was the very longest time that they had ever been away from each other.
Bubbles tried her best to comfort her. "Ne' mind, Miss Dimple," she said. "Yo' pa goin' off on crutches, but terreckly he comin' back 'thout 'em. Yuh don' want him go hippy-hop all he lifetime."
