"What a pity!" said Nurse Annie; "but it will grow again, my dear."
"Did you really say 'what a pity!'? Then I quite like you. I'll dress like a flash of greased lightning. It doesn't matter about washing, does it? For I know I'll be crying most of the day."
"Now, my dear, you won't be so silly, for it will be bad for your sister."
"Oh, Daisy, she's as good as gone," said Henrietta. "She was taken sudden, like poor mumsie. She was a nice little thing, and the imp of mischief. Pinchin and Dawson and the barber killed her. Whatever you may say about the woman called Faithful, she had a hand in that pie."
"Dress yourself now and stop talking," said Nurse Annie. "There is plenty of cold water in that jug and you really must wash, for your face is such a show."
"To be sure now, is it, at all, at all? I don't like being a holy show. People like me best when I am pretty. Mumsie used to say I was a very handsome girl."
"You are quite decent-looking now," said the nurse, "if only you wouldn't talk so much, and would begin your washing and dressing before the doctor arrives. As to your sister, she is no more dead than I am. See, her eyes are wide open; she is looking at you. She only fainted, poor little dear."
"Oh, get out of my way; let me hug her," said Henny. "Daisy—Dysy—give me your answer do!"
"Young lady, you are not to go near your sister. She is much too weak."
Daisy certainly gave a very weak, wondering smile.