A dozen times in an hour the cat was roused from her slumber, with invariably the same result; and, sleepy or not sleepy, she was always expected, if Lally wished that she should do so, to fold her paws, lie quiet, put down her head, commence purring, and so wander into dreamland once again.
“Poor pussens, poor tittens, poor Muff!” and so mistress and cat would fall to rest, mutually caressing each other; and sometimes Bessie, watching the pair, would turn her head aside and cry silently.
They were gathering holly berries in those days; and Lally had longed to go out and watch the holly being cut “in Berrie Down Lane, and just round about, ma,” she said; but in this matter Heather was firm. “My pet must not put her little face outside the doors till spring comes,” she answered; and then Lally very piteously asked, “Will spring be long, ma,—will spring be long?”
“Look at the beautiful dress I have made for Lally’s own self,” said Bessie on Christmas-eve—holding up a little frock of white cashmere, which she had bound and trimmed, and decked out prettily with light blue ribbon. “My child is to be dressed up in all this loveliness to-night, and carried down in Bessie’s arms, to say to mamma and papa ‘merry Christmas, happy new year.’ Lally won’t be awake soon enough in the morning to say all that long sentence. Would Lally like to be dressed, and go now?”
Lally conceiving that she would, the grand dress was slipped on over her little night-gown, then a soft blue shawl was thrown round her neck, and thus attired, with her head resting on Bessie’s shoulder, Lally put in her first appearance in the family circle.
“My darling, my darling!” Heather said; and she stood up white and trembling as she spoke.
“Is that my little girl?” Arthur exclaimed, making a movement to take her, in which he was restrained, however, by Lally’s statement that she was not to be hurt. “Lally’s been very sore, pa,” she explained. “Merry Chris-mes, dood new year!”
“That is not it,” whispered Bessie, giving her a little admonitory shake,—“happy.”
“Ma, happy Chris-mes, merry new year!” and the little creature made the round of the family, not forgetting Master Marsden, whom Bessie reluctantly allowed to kiss her. Surreptitiously and remorsefully that young gentleman conveyed into Lally’s hand five or six marbles, which had been secreted about his person.
“They are for you,” he whispered; and the gift Lally religiously carried upstairs, falling asleep with the precious stones laid in a heap beside her.