Meg smiled at their love and praise, and then Cherry made the tea.
Meanwhile Jem went to the corner and uncovered something which stood there, bringing it forward to Dickie, and telling him to look at what it was.
Dickie leaned forward, opened his eyes, gave a cry of pain, and then looked pitifully up in Meg's face.
"I can't see, mo'ver-Meg; where is it? It's all dark 'ere. Do light the lamp for me."
But no lamp could be of any avail, as Meg saw when he felt about with his tiny hands in the broad daylight to find his way to the secret.
"Here, darling," said Meg, struggling with her tears, and commanding her voice by a great effort, "here is the secret; put your little hands and feel it."
Dickie, believing that the lamp had not yet been lighted, and not guessing or being capable of understanding the calamity which had fallen upon him, let her guide his hands to the arms of a little chair, high enough to reach the table.
"For me?" asked Dickie; "a chair for my werry own?"
"Yes," answered Jem, taking him from Meg and placing him in it. "See, Dickie, you can play by the table or sit by the fire. I have made it for your very own."
"Kind fa'ver-Jem," said Dickie, contentedly. "Now Cherry, light the lamp, so as I can see it."