“No, cousin John; I was only thinking.”
“Only thinking!” said cousin John, wheeling the most inviting easy-chair up in front of the glowing grate. “Well, come here and sit with me, and, if you must stare at something, let it be at the fire: it is a much more agreeable object than that mizzly sky. And so you were thinking, Polly? I hoped you were watching for me.”
MARY’S HOME.
“I was wishing for you, cousin John. But I wasn’t exactly watching, because I was thinking of them;”—and the child clasped her hands nervously, and turned her face up to him with a sorrowful look, which was sadder than tears.
A shadow came over the young man’s pleasant face; and he stooped and kissed her forehead, as he placed her on his knee. “You shouldn’t sit here alone in the twilight, Polly,” said he; “it’s not good for you. Where are the babies?”
“Grandmamma does not like them to stay in the parlor, you know: they make such a litter; and she wants it tidy when you come home; and Mrs. Evans says I sha’n’t be always in the nursery.”
“Grandmamma mustn’t sacrifice you to my old-bachelor notions, puss. I had rather stumble over a dozen hobby-horses than to find my little Polly sitting here alone with such a dismal face.”
“I like it to be neat for you, too, cousin John,” said cousin John’s little Polly, as he drew the kind caressing arm closer round her; “and I don’t think Grandmamma would have made the rule; but the last time they were in here, Jamie got the poker, and rode upon it all round the room. He called it his gee-gee. Look, what a black mark he made in the carpet. Nancy scrubbed it ever so long this morning, and it won’t come out; and the black was all over his new scarlet frock, too. Then Jeannie climbed on a chair, to get the dollies,—she thinks those marble busts are dollies,—and she fell and bumped her head. Mrs. Evans says it will be black and blue for a month. Oh, how angry she was! She said they were spoiled. Sylvie never said so; and Sylvie let me stay with them as much as I liked. Poor Sylvie!”—and the child’s voice sank into a tone of sad complaint.
“Mrs. Evans is a bit of a tyrant, I know,” answered cousin John, cheerfully; “but she is very fond of the twins, and of their big sister too, I can tell you. But where’s Grandmamma to-night?”