"
"And me too, me too, papa!" said Blue Eyes. You did not hear her; but I
did, and she had flown for her hat. At the door we found her, saying
again, "Me too, mamma!" Then you remembered her boots: "Oh, my darling,"
you said, kissing her, for you are a kind mother, "you cannot go in those
nice boots: the dew will spoil them; and it is not worth while to change
them, we shall be back in a few minutes."
A storm of tears would have burst out in an instant at this the third
disappointment, if I had not sat down on the door-step, and, taking her in
my lap, whispered that auntie was going to stay too.
"Oh, put the child down, and come along," called the great, strong,
uncomprehending man--Blue Eyes' dear papa. "Pussy won't mind. Be a good
girl, pussy; I'll bring you a red balloon to-night."
You are both very kind, you and George, and you both love little Blue Eyes
dearly.
"No, I won't come. I believe my boots are too thin," said I; and for the
equivocation there was in my reply I am sure of being forgiven. You both
turned back twice to look at the child, and kissed your hands to her; and
I wondered if you did not see in her face, what I did, real grief and
patient endurance.
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