“Our precious little daughter. It is hard to spare her; but think, dearest, to what a happy place she is going.”
“I know—I know. I try not to be selfish. It is her gain, her happiness. Oh yes, I know what a happy, happy thing it is for children to be taken in all their innocence. But oh, I shall miss her so sorely.”
“I know, I know. But we believe that trials are sent us in love and not in anger; and we must think of our Winifred’s gain and not of our loss.”
Some soft kisses and warm tears were dropped upon the child’s sleepy face. She had moved, and the voices ceased, but both parents were bending over her little bed. She opened her eyes drowsily, smiled and kissed them, and then she sank off to sleep again holding her mother’s hand in hers.
CHAPTER II.
WINIFRED’S TROUBLE.
Winifred awoke early the following morning, to find the sunshine playing over the window-blind and the swallows twittering in the eaves.
She fancied that something unusual had happened in the night; but she could not, all in a moment, recollect what it was.
Gradually some of the sense of what had passed between her parents in her night-nursery came back to her as she lay in bed puzzling things over, and she began to talk softly to herself as she had a way of doing.
“I think they said I was going away somewhere, to some nice place where I should be very happy. I can’t quite remember, and I thought Dr. Howard meant I was to stay at home; but I don’t always understand what people mean. I’m almost sure papa and mamma said I was to go—I suppose it’s to some nice place where little children get strong and well again. I should like to be able to run about again and play with the boys. I should like to do what other children can.”