Freda and Daffy looked horrified. After their mother had said good-bye to them all, and they had stood at the nursery windows and waved their handkerchiefs to her as she drove away from the house, Freda said:
"It is Nurse who doesn't like Dreamikins, and she tells Mums tales of her. She can't forget the rhyme Dreamikins sang in front of her face the day she was so naughty!"
"I think she's more good than wicked," said Daffy thoughtfully. "She means to be good, and she's made me think much more about God since I knew her."
"She's a darling, and Nurse is a—"
But Nurse came up then, and Freda's sentence was never finished.
[CHAPTER XIII]
A New Playmate
IT was a dull cold afternoon in November. Freda and Daffy were in the nursery, which looked the picture of cosy comfort. There was a blazing fire in the grate and a bright picture screen to keep out the draughts of the door. Bertie was playing with a box of tin soldiers on the hearth-rug; Nurse was mending a pair of his socks in her rocking-chair. Freda and Daffy had been tidying their dolls' house, and now were standing at the window watching the wind sweeping the dry leaves along the avenue, and wondering what they had better do next.
"There's quantities of things we could do," said Freda, "but Nurse will say 'No' to most of them. We could go into the bathroom and have a wash. All the dolls want washing, and so do their clothes. But Nurse says we aren't to leave the room."
"Let's get our scrap books. Miss Fletcher says her sister would like to have them when they're finished to give to her poor children."