“Yes, dear, for a little while,” she said in a weak voice as she sank back against her pillows. “But when I saw that it was snowing, I took the candles away so as not to disturb your grandmother, for I thought the hired man and his wife might be gone down town, and she would have no one to send over.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked, for she had closed her eyes as if she were suffering. Half-frightened by her white face, I looked away from the bed; and there in a little rocking-chair what did I see but a black-eyed doll, dressed in a long, clean white flannel nightgown and with a red shawl pinned around her.
“You might get some hot water from the tea-kettle on the kitchen stove,” said Miss Dean, without opening her eyes, “and put a teaspoonful of peppermint essence out of that bottle on the table into a half glass of water. That might make me feel better.”
I hurried out to the kitchen and brought back the hot mixture. Miss Dean took it all, then settled down again among the pillows; but she did not look so pale now. “I shall soon feel better,” she said in her pretty, patient way.
So I waited, seating myself opposite that doll. It had a china head with such black hair, big black eyes and a round face, very white except the bright red cheeks and lips. It was a pretty, lovable doll, and I knew it must be a very old one.
“You are looking at my doll, Ruth,” Miss Dean said suddenly; and turning, I found her eyes fixed upon my face.
“Is it your doll?” I cried.
“Yes,” she said softly. She had large brown eyes and a delicate face; her eyes seemed larger than ever now, because her face was so white.
“‘WHAT DID I SEE BUT A BLACK-EYED DOLL.’”