“I have no money to pay a doctor,” said poor Mrs. Scott, wiping her eyes, “and I can't go to a stranger and ask him to attend her for nothing. I give her the medicine the doctor told me to get when she was first hurt, but it don't seem to do any good now.”
Mrs. Ashford said she would speak to a doctor not far from there, with whom she was well acquainted, and she was sure he would be willing to come and see what could be done for the child.
“It is very hard that you have to be away from her so much, when she is sick, and almost helpless.”
“It is hard, mem, but what can I do? I must work to pay the rent and get us bread, and glad enough I am to have the work. And she's not always so forlorn as you found her, for mostly she can move herself. She's a bit weak to-day. Then when I go for all day, I leave things handy on a chair by the bed, and the people in the house are real kind, coming in to see if she wants anything and to mend the fire.”
In the meantime the children were not saying much, for Jennie, besides being somewhat shy, appeared tired and weak. She was greatly pleased with the book and cards, holding them tenderly in her hands. Marty sat in silence a while, and then asked,
“Have you a doll?”
“No,” replied Jennie. “I never had one.”
“Never in your whole life!” exclaimed Marty, extremely astonished.
“No,” said Jennie quietly. “But wunst we lived next door to a girl who had one, and sometimes she let me hold it. It was the very beautifulest kind of a doll, I think,” she added with great animation: “had light curly hair and big blue eyes.”
Marty was so overcome that she could do nothing but stand and gaze at the little girl who never had a doll, and nothing more was said until her mother was ready to go home.