And, far away in the east chamber, lay dear little Rose, flushed with fever.
O, if you had only known what a darling it was that lay there!
From her sweet babyhood she had always been a sunbeam in her father's house; and, after her father died, a year ago, it had really seemed as if she thought she must try to comfort her poor mamma.
Aunt Jane, her mamma, was very delicate; and, when Dr. Gray came to see her once, he said to little Rose,—
"You're mamma's little nurse. Don't forget to take good care of her."
And Rose did not forget. After that, she often said,—
"Unker Docker, I do take care o' mamma."
If Mrs. Abbott dressed to go out, the little daughter would say,—
"Why, mamma, you must have your yubbers. I'll go get your yubbers and warm 'em this minute."