The little lady rubbed two tiny wax hands across her two glass eyes. “You have guessed rightly,” she said in a little faltering voice.
“Oh, I am sorry!” said her little friend with great sympathy. “I have been out all the afternoon, so I never heard Auntie say she was going to send you and your partner away from each other. And fancy his going away and leaving you as he did! You poor little thing, how I wish I could do something to make you happier!”
Molly thought a moment. “I know!” she exclaimed; “you shall belong to me, my dear. I shall ask Auntie to give you to me, and you shall be my very own dolly!”
“Come with me, darling,” she continued, hugging the little Marionette tightly, “and I will sing you to sleep in Auntie’s big rocking-chair. I will make up a nice song all by myself and all about you. You will see then how much I love you, and you won’t cry any more. When you wake up you will feel happier again.”
And going into the room at the back of the shop, she drew a rocking-chair near the cheerful blaze of the bright fire and sat down, still clasping the little Marionette in her arms.
At first she rocked to and fro silently, and with a thoughtful expression. Presently she gave a sudden jerk to the rocking-chair, and sung in a shrill sweet voice, and with some energy—
“Lullaby, little dolly, lullaby, lullaby,
Your poor nose is broken, your eyes are awry,
But I’ll love you and kiss you, so you must just try
Not to cry, little dolly,—lullaby, lullaby.”
“Lullaby,” she said more gently, and kissed her fondly. Then she began afresh, but more softly and soothingly—
“Lullaby, little dolly, lullaby, lullaby,
You know you are ugly and rather a guy,
But my arms are around you, so why should you sigh?
Just you sleep, little dolly,—lullaby, lullaby.”
“Lullaby,” she whispered, and kissed her again very tenderly.