It was a terrible feeling that swept all at once over little Flaxie. I wonder if you ever had it? If not, you can’t understand it: it was homesickness. There is no ache or pain like it in the whole world, and it seemed to tingle all through Flaxie, from her head to her feet. She ran into the sitting-room, ready to scream. “Oh, auntie, I feel so bad; I feel bad all over!”
Mrs. Allen did not know what she meant.
“Not all over,” said she, looking up pleasantly. “Isn’t there a good spot somewhere, dear? Perhaps there’s a wee spot on your little finger that’s almost good.”
But Flaxie could not smile.
“It’s right in here, in my heart, that I feel the worst,” moaned she; “’cause I can’t see my mamma, and haven’t anything to kiss but her picture!”
Then Aunt Charlotte was full of sympathy, for she knew the dreadful suffering Flaxie spoke of was homesickness. It seemed strange that it should have seized her so suddenly,—but Flaxie was sudden about everything.
“Why, my precious one,” said Mrs. Allen, taking the unhappy child in her lap, “you know Milly is coming home next week, and in one week more Dr. Papa will send for you to go home. Two weeks won’t be long.”
“Oh, yes’m, oh, very long! And they oughtn’t to have lemme come; I’m too yo-u-ng!”
“Hullo! Is she sick?” cried Freddy, bursting into the room with a great clatter.
His mother shook her head at him.