"And there 'll be nobody to help them, now their mother is dead," said Milly, speaking softly to herself.
She did not say any more, but walked slowly and thoughtfully up stairs and took out a book to spell over her lessons, as she had been accustomed to do. But somehow the sight of the old worn spelling book that Bob had bought as a present for her, brought back the old scenes so vividly to her mind that, at the recurrence of the thought that these two friends might be ill, with no one to take care of them, she burst into tears.
She was still crying when Dr. Mansfield came in from the garden. "What is the matter, Milly? What has happened, my darling?" he asked, lifting her upon his knee as he sat down.
For a minute or two Milly could only sob. But at length she said, "I think I shall have to go away from you soon."
"Go away from me?" repeated the doctor, clasping her in his arms as he spoke. "What do you mean, Milly?"
"I don't know, quite; but Bob told me I must be an angel, and help everybody, and I think he will want me to go and help him now."
"Help who? Bob, the fisher-boy?"
Milly nodded. "He'll want me soon, I think," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes and trying to look very brave.
"What for?" asked the doctor. "What can a little girl like you do for him?"
"I don't know. I'm going to try and do everything; that is, take care of him while he's ill. That would be helping him, wouldn't it?" she added.