When she went to bed at night she used to lie and conjure up a pathetic scene of her death-bed, when too late her family had learned her worth. She would lie and blink at the patch of light made on the ceiling by Dolly’s wash-stand candle, her throat swelling with self-pity. She saw a picture of herself growing daily thinner and thinner, her cheeks white, the eyes unnaturally large and bright. Yet all the family went on with its own occupations, too engrossed to notice her failing strength. And one by one her duties would be given up, meal after meal and only her vacant chair would be at the table. And at last it would be forced upon them all that the patient figure upon the sofa, with the transparent hands and ethereal smile, was slipping from their midst. She went further still one night, and actually buried herself in an oak and silver coffin, piled up with wreaths and crosses of fragrant flowers. Her family and all her school-fellows were standing around looking their last on her as she lay, her face marble white and peaceful, her still white hands filled with lilies, and crossed on her breast. A sob rose from the bed at this heartrending picture.
[274]
]“Whatever’s the matter?” Dolly said from the wash-stand.
There came another quivering breath.
Dolly dropped her pen and ran round to the bedside.
“Have you got a pain?—does your head ache?—what is the matter, Weenie?” she said, quite startled; “would you like me to fetch mother?”
Weenie shook her head languidly and turned her head tearfully aside.
“Go a-w-way,” she said.
But Dolly was not to be put off like that. She stroked the brown curls on the pillow, she put loving arms round her, and kissed her healthy brown cheek soothingly.
“Do tell me,” she said; “are you in a row at school? Tell me, little old Weenie; isn’t it anything I can help?—poor old Wee, there, never mind, nothing can be very bad—there, tell me, girlie dear.”
But Weenie turned away irritably. It was too bad to have one’s burial interrupted in this fashion. Besides, it was vexatious to have Dolly kind; to be in keeping with her mood the elder sister should have bidden her harshly “be quiet,” or at least have scorned and reviled her for her tears. She buried her nose in the pillow.