"Oh, papa," she said, seizing his hand, "come and see the prettiest thing you ever saw. Come, Uncle John, do come; but do not make any noise."
Papa and Uncle John followed the eager little girl, who led them to the sofa where Bessie and Flossy lay.
"Isn't she sweet?" whispered Maggie. "Isn't it just like a picture?"
It was indeed a pretty sight. The sleeping child in her white dress, with her curls falling over the red cushions, and the little dog clasped in her arms, his face cuddled up against her shoulder. But Mr. Duncan and Mr. Bradford thought that not the least pretty part of it was the affectionate little sister standing by, looking at Bessie with so much love in her eyes. Her father could not help stooping to kiss her. Just then Aunt Helen passed through the hall.
"Come here, Helen," said Mr. Duncan.
"Isn't that a pretty picture, Aunt Helen?" said Maggie, as her aunt paused to look. "I am going to call mamma."
"No, no," said Mrs. Duncan, "do not call her. You have given me an idea, Maggie. Can you keep a secret?"
Maggie promised, and her father said he thought she might be trusted.