Hetty asked to be allowed to carry the tray, which she did very successfully; but she set it down half on and half off the table, and there would soon have been a fine crash if Mrs. Eyre had not perceived this in time.
"You must always see that your tray is quite on the table, Hetty. That would have fallen the moment I touched it. Go up to Miss Flo now. Baby is asleep in the cradle, and Lina and Edgar will go and play in the garden. I must do some cooking—your master dines at the shop, but very early, and of course he needs a good supper. Try to amuse the poor little thing, for this is rather a restless time with her. Keep her lying quiet, flat on her back, if possible. Her walk did her good—she ate quite a good dinner, for her."
Hetty ran upstairs, and found Flora alone. She was crying—not noisily, like a healthy child, but quite silently, great round tears dropping on her white pillow.
"Oh, Miss Flo, what's the matter with you?"
"Oh, Hetty, is this you? I thought you were going to stay and help mamma, and then I was ashamed of being vexed, because mamma has so much to do; and Lina is no help—she's so giddy. Besides, I am afraid I am cross."
"Oh, no, not cross, my poor little dear! Come, shall I sing you some of the songs I learned at school?"
"I—don't—know. Yes, please sing one—only one, Hetty."
Hetty sang, "Pussy sitting by the fire," and Flo laughed.
"Sing more, do, Hetty; your voice is pleasant. Now Lina learns songs at her school, but she has a squeak in her voice that hurts my head. I was afraid you might squeak, but you don't. Sing me another song!"
Hetty sang, and sang, until she saw that the child was in a sweet sleep.