"Find some play that she does like, then. Where are her father
and mother?"
"Just sailed for Europe, a few weeks ago."
"The best thing would be, for her, to sail after them," said
the old doctor. And he went.
"We shall have to let her do just as they did at Melbourne,"
said my aunt.
"How was that?" said Miss Pinshon.
"Let her have just her own way."
"And what was that ?"
"Oh, queer," said my aunt. "She is not like other children.
But anything is better than to have her mope to death."
"I shall try and not have her mope," said Miss Pinshon.
But she had little chance to adopt her reforming regimen for
some time. It was plain I was not fit for anything but to be
let alone; like a weak plant struggling for its existence. All
you can do with it is to put it in the sun; and my aunt and
governess tacitly agreed upon the same plan of treatment for
me. Now the only thing wanting was sunshine; and it was long
before that could be had. After a day or two I left my bed,
and crept about the house, and out of the house under the
great oaks; where the material sunshine was warm and bright
enough, and caught itself in the grey wreaths of moss that
waved over my head, and seemed to come bodily to woo me to
life and cheer.
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