“Indeed, Miss Lily, I shall never get the child to sleep if you make such a constant noise. You’ve woke her up these three times already!”
“Lily! Lily!” called her mother at the foot of the stairs. Whether her call was heard by the little lady I know not, it certainly was not answered, and Mrs. Ellerslie had walked half-way up to the nursery before I heard the servant exclaiming in a sharp tone, “Now do you be quiet, Miss Lily; don’t you hear that mistress is calling you?”
“You had better come to the drawing-room, my darlings,” called the gentle mother, “and then nurse can put poor baby to sleep. I am obliged to go out to make purchases, and to execute commissions for my sister; but I am sure that you will be good and happy while I am away; and do not be too noisy, my pets.”
So Lily and Lizzie Baker, a plump, dark-eyed little girl, came into the room, and seated themselves on an ottoman, near the table on which my work-box was placed. Eddy followed, jumping step by step down the stairs, and trotting up to his sister, said, “Lily, won’t you let me play with you?”
“Oh, we don’t want you here,” was the reply; “we are going to have a quiet chat together. Just you amuse yourself, and don’t trouble us.”
The little fellow turned dolefully away, went up to the window, and flattened his nose against the pane, looking after his mother as she crossed the street; soiled his finger by drawing lines across the glass which he had dimmed with his breath; then, tired of that diversion, tried to pull off the little twists of wool which formed the fringe of the curtain; and then suddenly making up to the table, laid his exploring hand on the work-box.
“There now, Eddy, you tormenting boy, just take your hands off,” cried Lily, turning round just in time to prevent its contents being scattered on the floor. She roughly snatched the box from the child, and giving him something very much like a shake, sent him half crying to another end of the room.
“He is the most mischievous little monkey,” she said to her companion; “would you believe it, he pulled off the wig of my new doll!”
“I think that brothers are great torments,” observed Lizzie.
“Oh, not such brothers as George,” replied Lily; “he is always like sunshine in the house. I am so glad that he is coming from school. I have been counting the days to the holidays.”
