"Are you crying because your doll is broken?" asked Suzanna, now coming a little closer and standing straight and slim before the child.
"No, she's not broken," said the little girl, "but she's got the whooping cough and she keeps my father awake nights coughing."
Suzanna instantly responded. "Oh, that's too bad," she said. "Can't your mother fix her some flaxseed tea?"
Now down once more went the little girl's head upon her knee, and once more she was shaking with sobs. And at this moment young Graham returned and in his wake, David.
"David says," began Graham cheerfully to Suzanna and Maizie, "that he can find room for an extra dog, so you may leave yours. Where's your brother?"
"He is right over there," pointed Maizie.
Then the gardener's glance fell upon the little girl, with her head bent as she still wept.
"She's crying awfully hard," said Suzanna to the gardener. "Do you know whose little girl she is?"
"She's mine," said the man with a big world of tenderness in his voice. "She's my little Daphne."
"We thought she was crying because her doll was broken," said Suzanna. "Then she said it had the whooping cough and kept you awake all night and I asked her why her mother didn't make some flaxseed tea for it."