Rosie stopped for breath.
“Go on,” Maida entreated; “oh, do hurry.”
“Well, there, lying on the bed was my mother. Maida, I felt so queer that I couldn’t move. My feet wouldn’t walk—just like in a dream. My mother said, ‘Come here, my precious little girl,’ but it sounded as if it came from way, way, way off. And Maida then I could move. I ran across the room and hugged her and kissed her until I couldn’t breathe. Then she said, ‘I have a beautiful Christmas gift for you, little daughter,’ and she pulled something over towards me that lay, all wrapped up, in a shawl on the bed. What do you think it was?”
“I don’t know. Oh, tell me, Rosie!”
“Guess,” Rosie insisted, her eyes dancing.
“Rosie, if you don’t tell me this minute, I’ll pinch you.”
“It was a baby—a little baby brother.”
“A baby! Oh, Rosie!”
The two little girls hopped about the room in another mad dance.
“Maida, he’s the darlingest baby that ever was in the whole wide world! His name is Edward. He’s only six weeks old and he can smile,”