Sally’s plain face beamed with pleasure. “It’s time to stop receiving patients for to-day,” she said. “Won’t you walk into the sitting-room and give the roses to Lady Jane, yourself?”
I was well pleased to accept the invitation. The sitting-room was as cosy as the hospital itself was barren of attraction. I really wondered at the taste with which it was arranged. The hangings were blue, and two or three low chairs were covered with the same color; and there were pretty trifles here and there which made it seem like a lady’s room.
My roses were received with a cry of delight.—Page [69].
My roses were received with a cry of delight; and, while Lady Jane put them in a delicate glass, Sally made me sit down in the most comfortable chair, and then she asked her ward to sing to me.
The girl had a wonderful voice, soft and clear and full.
When she had done singing, Sally said, “I have thought sometimes that, if no better fortune comes, Lady Jane can sing herself into good luck.”
“I count on something better than that,” the little lady cried carelessly. “When I ‘come to my own,’ like the princesses in all the fairy tales, I’ll send you my picture, Sally, and it will make you less trouble than I do. It won’t wear out its gowns, nor want all the strawberries for supper.”
Sally didn’t answer; but two great tears gathered in her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks.
Lady Jane laughed—not unkindly, only childishly—and said, “Never mind. Don’t cry yet. You’ll have time enough for that when it all comes to pass. And you know you want it to happen; you always say so.”