"All dark out there," said she, sadly. "Did God forget about the moon? I are goin' to cry! Yes, Flaxie, I are; I want to see my mamma, and I are goin' to cry."
Two tiny tears gathered in the dove-like brown eyes, ready to fall. Dr. Gray rose from his chair and paced the floor. He never could bear to see a little girl cry.
"I wonder," said he,—"I do wonder where Mary keeps that beautiful big wax doll!"
"O papa!" said Flaxie, clasping her hands, "don't, papa!"
"The wax doll is in my cabinet," replied Mrs. Gray, not regarding her daughter's distress; "and if Kittyleen won't cry she shall see it to-morrow."
"O mamma, please don't," repeated Flaxie.
But Kittyleen was happy from that moment. She wanted to stay now. She liked Flaxie's chamber, with its fine pictures and soft carpet, and the silk quilt upon the bed. She liked Flaxie's "nightie," with its pretty edging, and laughed because it had a "long end to it," long enough to wrap up her little pink toes.
Ethel, who was still younger than Kittyleen, had gone to bed long ago; but Kittyleen was too full of frolic, and when she went at last she would not lie still, but kept springing up and turning somersets all over the bed, lisping, as she caught her breath, "See dolly in the mornin'! Me velly much obliged!"
"There, there, hush, Kittyleen," said Flaxie, crossly, "I want to go to sleep."