[CHAPTER III.]
FLO'S KITTEN.
MRS. EYRE was busy in the kitchen for an hour or more. Then she came gently into the parlour, and found Flo sleeping and Hetty crying. She beckoned the girl out into the hall.
"What is wrong, Hetty?"
"Nothing, ma'am. I didn't mean to cry, but I'm that sorry for little Miss Flo. 'Tis so hard on her, the little creature! Oh, ma'am, will she ever be well?"
"I cannot tell you that, Hetty. God knows, and you know He loves her. The great London doctor thought she would recover—Dr. Haddon, our doctor here, was not so hopeful."
"And what is it, ma'am? Was she hurt in any way? I seem to remember mother saying it was a fall, but I did not heed it."
"Yes; two years ago she had a fall. She fell down the kitchen stairs. She did not seem so much hurt at first, but she must have got some terrible twist or strain, for not one day's health has she had since then, and as to growing, if I did not know it was impossible, I would say she has grown smaller. If we even knew exactly what was wrong,—but no one can find out. Come, Hetty, I have a lot of mending to do. Can you work nicely?"
"Not like Matty, ma'am. She's fond of it."
"And you are not?"