And Hughie was a trusty guardian for his delicate little sister. He was a brave and manly little fellow; awkward and shy to strangers, but honest as the day, and with plenty of mother-wit about him. Janet looked up to him with affection and admiration not altogether unmixed with awe. Hughie was great at “knowing best,” in their childish perplexities, and, for all his tenderness, somewhat impatient of “want of sense,” or thoughtlessness.
One day the two children, accompanied as usual by Hughie’s dog “Caesar,” and the no less faithful Mary Ann Jolly, had wandered farther than their wont from home. Janet had set her heart on some beautiful water forget-me-nots, which, in a rash moment, Hughie had told her that he had seen growing on the banks of a little stream that flowed through a sort of gorge between the hills. It was quite three miles from home—a long walk for Janet, but Hughie knew his way perfectly—he was not the kind of boy ever to lose it; the day was lovely, and the burn ran nowhere near the direction they had been forbidden to take—that of the infected village. But Hughie, wise though he was, did not know or remember that close to the spot for which he was aiming ran a road leading directly from this village to the ten miles distant little town of Linnside, and even had he thought of it, the possibility of any danger to themselves attending the fact would probably never have struck him. There was another way to Linnside from their home, so Hughie’s ignorance or forgetfulness was natural.
The way down to the edge of the burn was steep and difficult, for the shrubs and bushes grew thickly together, and there was no proper path.
“Stay you here, Janet,” he said, finding for the child a seat on a nice flat stone at the entrance to the gorge; “I’ll be back before you know I am gone, and I’ll get the flowers much better without you, little woman; and Mary Ann will be company like.”
Janet obeyed without any reluctance. She had implicit faith in Hughie. But after a while Mary Ann confided to her that she was “wearying” of sitting still, and Janet thought it could do no harm to take a turn up and down the sloping field where Hughie had left her. She wandered to a gate a few yards off, and, finding it open, wandered a little farther, till, without knowing it, she was within a stone’s throw of the road I mentioned. And here an unexpected sight met Janet’s eyes, and made her lose all thought of Hughie and the forget-me-nots, and how frightened he would be at missing her. Drawn up in a corner by some trees stood one of those travelling houses on wheels, in which I suppose every child that ever was born has at one time or other thought that it would be delightful to live. Janet had never seen one before, and she gazed at it in astonishment, till another still more interesting object caught her attention.
It was a child—a little girl just about her own age, a dark-eyed, dark-haired, brown-skinned, but very, very thin little girl, lying on a heap of old shawls and blankets on the grass by the side of the movable house. She seemed to be quite alone—there was no one in the waggon apparently, no sound to be heard; she lay quite still, one thin little hand under her head, the other clasping tightly some two or three poor flowers—a daisy or two, a dandelion, and some buttercups—which she had managed to reach without moving from her couch. Janet, from under her little green shade, stared at her, and she returned the stare with interest, for all around was so still that the slight rustle made by the little intruder caught her sharp ear at once. But after a moment her eyes wandered down from Janet’s fair childish face, on which she seemed to think she had bestowed enough attention, and settled themselves on the lovely object nestling in the little girl’s maternal embrace. A smile of pleasure broke over her face.
“What’s yon?” she said, suddenly.
“What’s what?” said Janet.
“Yon,” repeated the child, pointing with her disengaged hand to the faithful Mary Ann.
“That,” exclaimed Janet. “That’s my doll. That’s Mary Ann Jolly. Did you never see a doll?”