While Father was speaking Liza’s eyes had grown very wide indeed, for the tiny sister had yawned, then opened her eyes, and was looking straight at Liza.
“Muvver Dear! Father!” said she excitedly, “she is going to talk to me.” Then Butterfly’s golden curls, which just reached to the top of the cradle, bent over anxiously toward the little bald head of the new baby. No one spoke for at least a minute, which was evidently long enough for Miss Little Sister to deliver her message, for at the end of that time, away flew Liza across the room like a little sunbeam, dancing and singing,
“I know a secret I won’t tell you,
Sister told me and it is true.”
No amount of begging on the part of Martha Mary could persuade Liza to tell what the little stranger had said. I am sorry to say that Mary felt just the least bit jealous, for she didn’t see why Liza should be the only person in the family to know such wonderful things. Just as the two children were leaving the room, Liza went over to the big bed, took Mother Dear’s hand and kissed it.
“Baby says her name’s ‘Midge,’” said Butterfly. “That is part of the secret.”
Everyone smiled and was glad.
“Well,” said Father, “Midge it shall be, although her really, truly name is to be ‘Margaret,’ just like Mother’s.”
Liza’s eyes fairly danced with delight at the news, and Martha Mary had to keep a very tight hold on her lips, so as not to shout how happy she was, and so awaken Miss Midge.
No one could seem to eat any breakfast that morning, though there were delicious berries from the garden, with mush, and new-laid eggs, and the thickest cream that Cow Bess could give. The boys had been introduced to Miss Margaret Sherman, the second, while Liza and Martha Mary were dressing, so it was small wonder that with the new addition to the family to discuss the importance of such an every-day occurrence as breakfast faded to almost nothing.