"Yes, we'll never mind, won't we?" said Daisy. "But I'll fan her to make her feel better."
And, suiting the action to the word, she slipped down from her perch beside her mother, and began to labor vigorously about Nellie's head and shoulders with her ponderous instrument.
Somehow this struck Nellie as funny, and even in the midst of her penitent distress she was obliged to give a low laugh; a nervous little laugh it was, too, as her mother noticed.
"She's 'most better now," said Daisy, in a loud whisper, and with a confidential nod at mamma. "I fought I'd cure her up. This is a very nice fan when people don't feel well, or feel sorry," she added, as she paused for a moment, with an admiring look at the article in question; "it makes such a lot of wind."
And she returned desperately to her work, bringing down the fan with a whack on Nellie's head, and then apologizing with—
"Oh! I didn't mean to give you that little tap, Nellie; it will waggle about so in my hands."
Nellie laughed again, she really could not help it, though she felt ashamed of herself for doing so; and now she raised her head, wiped her eyes, and smiled at Daisy; the little one fully believing that her attentions had brought about this pleasing result.
Perhaps they had.
But although cheerfulness was for the time restored, poor Nellie's troubles had not yet come to an end for that evening.
