“Your father is wise and kind in making that rule, Elsie,” said the doctor. “Little girls like you very often suffer serious injury from carrying younger children. I wouldn’t advise you to do much of it, Annis.”
“Oh, I’m so strong it can’t hurt me, Brother Charlie,” answered Annis gayly, but Mildred said, “I’ll see that she doesn’t do much of it.”
When the babes were carried away to the nursery the little girls deemed it time to busy themselves with the dolls.
But first Mildred and the doctor were taken in to see Elsie’s rooms and the baby-house, Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore going along.
“Oh, what a lovely boudoir!” Mildred exclaimed, taking a critical and delighted survey of it. “Elsie dear, it is fit for a princess! and full of evidences of a fond father’s taste and affection,” she added, with a glance at her cousin, whose hand was toying with his daughter’s curls as she stood at his side.
Elsie’s eyes were lifted to his face with a loving, grateful look as she answered, “Yes, Cousin Milly, and that’s the very best of it.”
Annis grew enthusiastic over the dolls, “so many and so beautiful; some of them so like real live babies;” and when Elsie opened a deep drawer in a bureau and displayed quantities of pretty dress materials ready to be made into garments for them, beside ribbons, laces, and flowers, all intended for their adornment—although each had already several changes of raiment—her eyes fairly danced with delight.
The morning was all too short for the fascinating employment of turning over all those lovely things and exercising taste and skill in making them up into dresses, bonnets, etc.
Elsie said her father had been on the point of buying her a sewing-machine, but had decided that she must first become an accomplished needlewoman.
A little while before dinner Mr. Dinsmore came in and made them leave their sewing for a romping play, because he said the exercise would do them good.