Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 A visit to Aunt Nellie
 At Margate
 The fruit of disobedience
 Daisy's illness
 A happy meeting
 Back Cover

Title: The twins
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00086078/00001
 Material Information
Title: The twins
Physical Description: 63, 8 p. : ill. (some col.) ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Tiddeman, L. E ( Lizzie Ellen )
Blackie & Son
Publisher: Blackie & Son
Place of Publication: London ;
Glasgow ;
Edinburgh ;
Publication Date: [1897?]
Subject: Twins -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Obedience -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Girls -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Scarlatina -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1897   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1897
Genre: Publishers' catalogues   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Scotland -- Glasgow
Ireland -- Dublin
Statement of Responsibility: by L. E. Tiddeman.
General Note: Date of publication from inscription.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in sepia.
General Note: Publisher's catalogue follows text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00086078
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002238558
notis - ALH9074
oclc - 243763538

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 1a
    Front Matter
        Page 2
    Half Title
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
    Table of Contents
        Page 6
    A visit to Aunt Nellie
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    At Margate
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    The fruit of disobedience
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Daisy's illness
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
    A happy meeting
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
    Back Cover
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
Full Text



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Chap. Page

II. AT MARGATE,.. . . 21







n ATSY AND POPPY were twins, and very
like the flowers after which they had been
named. Daisy had a little fair face, with
cheeks of a delicate rose pink. She was gentle
and shy. Poppy had the brightest of colours, and
was as daring as could be. Left alone, Daisy
would never have got into mischief; but Poppy
was never out of it, and whatever she did her
sister was bound to do also. Not that Poppy
meant to be naughty; she used to make good re-
solves every night when she went to bed, and
break them in the morning when she got up again.
She had such a tiresome way of forgetting every-
thing she was told that only a very patient mother


could possibly have put up with it. But Mrs.
Montrose was. very patient indeed and seldom
scolded. Although when she sighed and said,
"Poppy dear, you must pray to God to help you
remember," Poppy used to feel so sorry that she
thought she never could forget again. Unfortun-
ately, however, she had a way of getting excited,
and then everything went out of her head all at
The children lived in the country, and there
was no lady whom the poor folks loved better than
their mama, Mrs. Montrose. She was good and
kind to them, not only when they were ill and in
trouble, but at all times. She did not talk to them
as if she thought herself above them because she
was rich and lived in a fine house. 'Quite the
contrary. She seemed to feel herself their friend;
and their friend she certainly was. She is a real
lady," they all said; "a real lady without any airs
and graces." And they were right; for no real
lady ever puts on airs and graces, you may be sure.
In this way Daisy and Poppy were like their
mother. They used to run in and out of the cot-
tages just as they liked, and every one was glad to
see their smiling faces, and hear their pleasant
cheerful voices.
It would be "How do you do, Mrs. Jones? I


have brought such a pretty picture-book for Jack"
(Jack was a cripple); or "Good morning, Mrs.
Prodgers. How's the baby?" and so on.
Though they were only seven they had been
taught to take an interest in their neighbours, and
to be very sorry if anyone was ill.
One bright, sunny morning in summer the two
came down to breakfast, looking fresh and pretty
in their clean, white frocks, and in high spirits.
Mamna and Papa were at the table. In ran the
little ones helter-skelter. What a noise they made,
to be sure; but nobody grumbled, not even Papa,
though Poppy nearly covered him with kisses.
He only said "Softly, Pussy, let Daisy have her
turn," and lifted her down to make room for her
sister. The twins chatted all through breakfast;
they were to have a holiday from lessons, and
were full of plans.
"All day to amuse ourselves in," said Poppy.
"How lovely. No sums-no geography (Poppy
called it jography)-no horrid multiplication table."
And no scales," cried Daisy. Mama, we can
go to see Aunt Nellie, can't we? and if she asks us
we can stop to lunch?"
"Yes," said Papa and Mama both together.
So that was settled.
Then Poppy had a bright idea.

"As we come back," she said, "I'll just tell you
what else we can do. We can go and see Mrs.
Saunders down by the toll gate, and ask after
Sarah Anne."
"Who and what is Sarah Anne?" asked Papa
Sarah Anne is Mrs. Saunders little girl," an-
swered Poppy. "She's only five, and she is not at
all well. She feels ever so sick. Mrs. Saunders
said so yesterday. And she has to stop in bed all
"Oh, that must be horrid," put in Daisy shaking
her head gravely. "I call it the horridest thing
to have to stay in bed. I shall take her my doll,
the oldest of course; I could not give her the new
one. I got it for a present, and Mama says one
ought not to give presents away."
"And, Mama," cried Poppy at the top of her
voice, "couldn't you give me a pot of jam for
Sarah Anne. Jam is so nice when you are ill;
except currant jam."
"Why not currant?" asked Papa.
"Powders!" exclaimed both the little girls, screw-
ing up their faces. They meant that it made them
think of powders, because they had taken them
many times in that particular kind of jam.
"I am very sorry to disappoint you, dears," said


Mama gently (she was always sorry if she had to
say no to any request her little girls made); but
I really must. I cannot let you go to Mrs. Saun-
"Oh, Mama!" they both cried in a breath.
"And why not?" asked Poppy crossly. Mama
was just going to answer, but Papa would not let
"That is not the way little girls should speak,"
he said gravely. If you had asked in a polite way
Mama might have told you, but now I am sure
she will not. She has forbidden you to go to Mrs.
Saunders, and that is quite enough."
And so it should have been, I am sure. But it
was not. Poppy was in a naughty temper in a
minute. She pushed her plate away, shrugged her
shoulders, put her finger in her mouth, and looked
sulky. There was not much sense in this; but I
have seen plenty of little children do the same,
besides some bigger ones who ought to have known
better. Mama and Papa were wise, they took no
notice whatever, but left her to come to her senses
again; which she very soon did, for Poppy was not
a sulk and never kept cross for long together.
As soon as breakfast was over she and Daisy
were in the garden shouting at the top of their
voices, and laughing as if there were no such


things in the world as bad tempers, or frowns, or
When Mama called them and said they might
go to Aunt Nellie's now if they liked, they were
quite surprised to find how quickly the time had
flown. But they did not lose many minutes get-
ting ready, you may be sure. To go to Aunt
Nellie's was such a treat; and there was no need
to take Nurse with them, they knew every inch of
the way, and of course in the country there is no
fear of being run over, there are so few carts and
The twins walked hand in hand, stopping from
time to time to gather wild flowers which grew by
the hedge-row-ragged robin, harebells, and great
ox-eyed daisies. Daisy was very fond of her god-
mothers as she called these last flowers, and she
stuck a great bunch of them in her sash. Aunt
Nellie was very glad to see her nieces. She was
seated by the window stitching busily, but she
put her work aside and began to bustle about
When she opened the sideboard door the children
knew that she would find something nice inside,
and so she did. No one's cakes were as good as
hers, and she cut a large slice for each of them.
She was so generous I don't think she would have


known how to cut a small one. Then they sat
still and rested for a while before going into the
garden to gather strawberries. Each child had a
little basket given her, and was told to fill it as
full as it would hold. Of course as they might eat
as many as they liked at the same time, it was a
pretty good while before the baskets were filled.
"Oh! I must eat this monster big one," cried
"These little ones are too scrimpy to put in,"
added Poppy cramming four or five very small
berries into her mouth all at once. Aunt Nellie
laughed and sat down on the garden seat, being
tired of waiting. But at last their pleasant task
was over, and the twins went indoors to see Grand-
ma, who sat in her arm-chair with Bob the big
white cat on her knee, and her spectacles on her
nose. Bob must be stroked of course, and his
whiskers had to be admired. They were really
uncommonly long and straight, and he himself was
a remarkably handsome fellow, and sang as loud
as any tea-kettle. Though he was pretty old he
could play like a kitten, and never stuck out his
claws in a spiteful way, or tried t6 scratch you.
The twins were sorry when it was time to go
home, but pleased with their baskets of straw-
berries, which looked fresh and pretty, for Aunt


Nellie had laid green leaves over them to keep the
sun off. Daisy chatted merrily; Poppy also, but
only at first. After a while she grew quite silent
and looked cross. When they reached the toll
gate she found her tongue.
"It is a very great shame," she said; "we might
have given Sarah Anne some of this fruit."
"Yes," said Daisy, they would have been just
the thing for an ill person."
They stopped opposite the cottage, and Poppy
stood with her back to the wall and began kick-
ing her foot backwards and forwards till her little
shiny shoe was covered with dust. It is a horrid
shame," she added in a grumbling tone.
"Yes, it is a horrid shame," echoed silly Daisy.
She had not thought so before, but she always
said exactly what Poppy did. After this the two
children were quiet for a while, but at last Poppy
"I don't care a bit," she said, "it is all non-
sense. We will go into Mrs. Saunders. Why
shouldn't we?"
"Oh! Poppy, Mama said not."
"Mama did not know about the strawberries.
If she had it would have been different. She
would have told us it was quite right to give some
to Sarah Anne."


"Oh! no, Pop, we mustn't; we really, really
"You may do as you like, Daisy. I'm going in.
So there!"
Poppy looked very flushed and cross, she was
pouting too. As for Daisy she was not wise
enough to do what was right because she knew it
was right, so she just followed.
Mrs. Saunders had but two rooms, the boys
slept in the one upstairs, she and her husband had
their bed in the sitting-room. So that when the
children lifted the latch a;d entered, there, warmly
tucked up, lay little Sarah Anne.
The mother was not there.
"How do you do, Sarah Anne?" cried Poppy;
"we've come to see you because you are ill. It
must be horrid to have to stop in bed, so we have
brought you some strawberries."
Sarah Anne peeped out from beneath the clothes,
and opened a pair of very heavy, sleepy-looking
"Oh! dear, how red you are," cried Daisy.
And so she was, not in the cheeks only but all over
her face.
"Let us look at her hands and see if they are
red too," said Poppy, taking the little fingers in
hers. "Why, I declare, they are just as bad."


Sarah Anne laughed. She was rather proud of
being noticed so much, and did not particularly
care what colour she was.
"Tiss me please," she said, holding up her face
for the purpose.
The twins did so. Poppy first, and Daisy after.
Just as they were in the act in came Mrs. Saun-
"Oh! dear! dear! little Misses. Whatever are
you doing here?" she exclaimed. I never should
have believed that your ma would have let you
"She didn't exactly," said Poppy blushing.
"She told us not; but she would not tell us vh!y,
so we didn't think there was a why. Besides we
had got some lovely strawberries for Sarah Anne.
So we came."
"It was very naughty, Miss Poppy, and you
must go home again directly. Dear! dear! don't
you know it is scarlet fever?"
"No, I didn't; how should I? But I thought
it must be scarlet something, because she looks so
awfully red. But what does it signify? That is
not the why."
"Indeed, and it is, Missy. Scarlet fever is
Then we have been and caught it," said Daisy,


turning quite pale, and the two little girls slipped
out of the cottage with very sober faces.
"I thought Mama knew best," said Daisy in a
whining voice.
"Then why didn't you say so?"
"I did."
"You didn't. You're a story."
So they began to quarrel, and were cross with
each other instead of being cross with themselves,
which would have been ever so much wiser. Poppy
waved her little basket backwards and forwards
in her hand in her temper, and half the sweet fruit
fell by the wayside and was crushed. Daisy began
to cry, and when Mama met them in the hall she
thought they looked a very uncomfortable little
couple, and guessed directly that there was some-
thing the matter.
"What is it, dears?" she asked in her gentle
The twins looked at one another, and Daisy's
eyes fell. So did Poppy's. She knew the best
thing would be to tell the whole truth, but some-
how she could not, her tongue felt quite stiff, her
lips would not move.
"My dears, you have been quarrelling," said
"Daisy is a great silly," grumbled Poppy.
(479) B


"Poppy called me a story," cried Daisy, pouting.
The little girls so seldom quarrelled that Mama
looked quite astonished.
"Go into the nursery, Daisy," she said; "and,
Poppy, you stay with me. Little girls who quarrel
are not fit to be together."
Daisy ran away. Poppy hid her face in her
mother's lap and burst into tears.
"I am so sorry," she sobbed out. But Mrs.
Montrose did not know how much she had to be
sorry for, or how very disobedient she had been.
All the rest of the day the children were dull
and miserable.
"They have eaten too much," said Papa; but
Mama was puzzled, for she knew the twins were
not greedy, and could not think what was wrong
with them. However, the next day they nearly
forgot all their troubles-little children do not
remember things for very long together.
Sometimes when they were not at play or lessons
they thought of what they had done, and Polly
wished very much that she could make up her
mind to tell Mama; but she could not, so she tried
hard not to think at all. Just before they went
to bed Papa called them to him, and told them he
had something to say to them. They both turned
very red.


Why, you look as if you expected a scolding,"
said Mama; and so they did.
"Instead of that, I have some very good news,"
put in Papa, looking very mysterious.
"Oh! do tell, do tell," cried both little girls,
dancing round him.
He would not at first, but began to tease a little
and to make all sorts of jokes. But at last out it
all came. To-morrow they were to go to the sea-
side, to Margate; they might get out their spades
and pails, and pack their dolls early next morning
if they liked. The children were wild with delight;
they hugged Papa and shouted for joy. Margate
of all places, where there were niggers and a band,
sands and clifs. Could anything be more delight-
"But why are we going all of a minute, and
before the holidays?" cried Daisy.
"Because of the scarlet fever," answered Mr.
Montrose. "Mama is so afraid her pets might
catch it."
Daisy said no more. Poppy hung her head.
"Mama," she began.
"Yes, dear," replied Mama, quite ready to
Ait unfortunately just at that moment Nurse
came in to ask some questions about the little

girls' clothes and how many frocks she was to put
in the box, and poor Poppy could not make up her
mind to try again. She spoke of it to Daisy when
they were in bed, but Daisy only told her not to
make a fuss, and declared that she was very sleepy,
too sleepy to talk.
When morning came there was so much to do,
that Poppy forgot her trouble. It was such a
puzzle to know which doll to take and which to
leave behind, and Nurse was quite certain all
could not be packed, and that one apiece was
enough for any little girls. Yet when they begged
very hard to take some of their little china ones,
she said: Well, yes, you may, seeing they are so
very tiny that they don't take much room."
"I shall put in Willie, and Mary, and Susan,"
cried Poppy.
"And I," said Daisy, "must take John and
Maria, because they are just married. We married
them only last Wednesday."
"Yes; but there is no need to take the clergy-
man, he will not be wanted down there. No time
for weddings at Margate, I am sure."
So the clergyman, a little doll Nurse had dressed
for them in a long white surplice, was laid care-
fully in a drawer.
"These other dear dollies are very lucky," said


Daisy, "to get such a nice change of air. Your
Susan and my Maria are both looking pale and
thin; but they will soon be quite themselves down
at Margate."
Nurse laughed, as she generally did when the
little girls talked about their dolls, for they always
spoke as if they were real living children. Indeed,
I think they sometimes made believe until they
half imagined they were.



THERE was nothing in the world the children
liked better than a railway journey. And,
indeed, a railway journey with Papa as a com-
panion was far from a dull affair. He was just
about the liveliest person you could find. They
had a carriage reserved for them, so no one else
was disturbed by their fun. And what jokes they
had, to be sure. Papa pretended to be very fright-
ened if they went through a tunnel, and laid his
head down on Poppy's shoulder.
I'll protect you, Papa," said little Daisy, trying
to get her arms round him, but they were so short


they would only go a very little way. Then when
they came out into the light again, up he would
spring as lively as ever; and there was nothing
worth seeing on the road that he did not point
out, of that you may be very sure.
Their journey lasted quite five hours, and at two
o'clock both the little girls began to feel it was
"Poor little creatures!" exclaimed Papa. "You
both look hungry, I declare. It is a thousand pities,
I am sure, that we have not got anything to eat."
Then he dived under the seat, and out came a
little hamper. At first Papa pretended he could
not untie the string that fastened it. Then he
made the lid fly open so suddenly that Poppy fell
back all of a heap. But Daisy, peeping inside the
basket, cried at the top of her little shrill voice:
"Oh, Pop! there's knives, and forks, and plates,
and mugs, and ham, and chicken, and cake. And
it will be just like a real proper picnic." So it was;
and what fun they had. The train was going so
fast they hardly knew how to swallow their lemon-
ade without spilling it; and Papa would make
them drink ever so many health. First it was
the stationmaster's, then the guard's, then the
stoker's, then the engine-driver's. Last, but not
least, they drank the health of the prettiest and

most amiable lady in England. That was Mama.
And Papa proposed the toast. No one was tired
when the train slackened pace, and they steamed
into Margate station. But every one was glad;
for there was the sea stretching wide and blue, and
little white boats upon it. There, too, were the
sands, yellow and glistening. And what was that
rattling sound? Why, the dear ugly old nigger
with his great collar, stripped trousers, and red
coat, rattling his bones as hard as he could. Papa
and Mama did not think the niggers were such
delightful creatures; but Poppy and Daisy were
charmed to see them. Meanwhile Papa had found
a fly, Nurse had collected the luggage, and in they
all jumped. They drove along in front of the sea
for a few minutes, and then Mama called to the
flyman to stop, for they had already reached their
apartments. Poppy and Daisy were glad they
were just in front of the sea, and could hardly eat
their tea for looking out of window. It was, "Oh,
Papa, look at those dear little girls with the funny
bonnets!" "Mama, dear, may we bathe to-mor-
row?" and so on every minute.
We shall never go to sleep," said Daisy. "We
shall be awake all night and listen to the splash,
splash of the sea." Yet at nine o'clock the two
little girls lay side by side, and the sound of the

waves did not reach them, for they lay slumbering,
dreaming that Bones was having lunch with them
in the train, and that Papa would drink his health
out of Daisy's wooden pail.
It was the children's habit, if they woke before
they were called, to run into Mama and Papa's
room and creep into their bed until it was time to
get up. They were allowed to do this after the
clock had struck seven, not before; that would
have been too early. They woke at six the morn-
ing after their arrival. It was easy to tell the time,
for they counted the strokes of the church clock.
"I wish it was seven," said impatient Poppy.
"Let us tell each other tales until it is," replied
Daisy wisely. "It will make the time go quicker."
They did so; and at last the clock struck again.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven!" they
exclaimed in a breath, and were out of bed in a
twinkling, slipping on their little pink dressing
gowns and slippers.
"This is a big, big house," said Daisy; "and
what a horrid lot of doors. I am sure I don't
know-wlhich is Mama's."
"I do!" said Poppy confidently. "It is that
one over there. Don't you remember?"
Daisy did not, but she thought Poppy was sure
to be right; so they ran across, turned the handle,


and entered. The room was rather dark, for the
green blind was drawn down. They jumped into
the bed, one on either side. "Wake up, you
naughty, lazy thing!" cried Poppy, with her little
arms round the neck of one of the sleepers, and
giving him quite a big shake as she spoke.
Mama! it is seven past," said Daisy snuggling
up close to the other. Then a very strange thing
happened. A gentleman who was not Papa sat up
in bed and burst out laughing, and a lady who
was not Mama did the same. Not so the little
girls. When they saw what a dreadful mistake
they had made they looked at each other and began
crying as loud as they could. It was hardly crying
at all; indeed, more what Papa would call "a
shocking howl."
"It is your fault," said Daisy between her sobs,
frowning at her sister.
I thought it was the right door. I did, I did,"
answered poor Poppy.
But neither of them seemed to have the sense
left to jump out of bed and run back to their own
room again.
The gentleman, who was younger than Papa,
tried very hard to leave off laughing, but could not
succeed at first. When he did he put his arm
round Poppy, and said in a good-natured way:


"My dear, the noise you are making is frighten-
ing me most dreadfully. In fact I am a great deal
more frightened than you are. Don't you think
you could manage to leave off?"
"I'll try," said Poppy meekly, wiping her eyes
with the sleeve of her flannel gown, and wishing
very much that she had a pocket-handkerchief.
"We don't bite," said the gentleman. "We shan't
hurt you, we are as tame as tame can be."
The lady kissed Daisy just at that very moment,
and when the child looked into her face she left
off crying at once, and wondered why she had been
foolish enough to do so at all.
"I am very sorry indeed," she whispered. "I
know it was dreadful bad manners; but indeed, in-
deed we did not know."
"And we don't even know your name," put in
Poppy. "We have not been introduced or any-
"Well let us introduce ourselves," said the
gentleman, laughing again. I am Mr. Musgrave,
and this lady is Mrs. Musgrave."
"I am Poppy Montrose, and that little girl is
Daisy Montrose. She is my twin," said Poppy,
nodding her curly head and brightening up as she
began to see that no one was shocked or angry.
"Yes," added Daisy; "we are exactly the same

age. Is it not funny? When Pop has a birthday
so have I, and one big cake does for both."
"Have you any little children Mr. Musgrave?"
asked Poppy. "We should like that very much, be-
cause they could play with us on the sands. We
like building immense big castles, and that takes
a long time; the more people there are to build it,
the quicker it gets done."
"No, we have not any little children," said the
gentleman; but we are very fond of them. When
I come to the sea-side I am quite a boy myself. I
shouldn't wonder a bit that I could help you build
a castle."
"You and Papa together. Oh, how jolly!" cried
Poppy, clapping her hands.
Pop," said Daisy gravely, slipping out of bed,
"Nurse will be wondering where we have got to.
She will be wondering ever so."
'I guess we must go," said Poppy. Good-bye
Mr. and Mrs. Musgrave."
They lifted up their sweet little faces to kiss
their new friends, and hand in hand trotted back
to their room. Of course at breakfast the tale had
to be told, and Papa and Mama were very much
"I must apologize for my little girls," said Papa.
"What is apologize?" asked Poppy.

'" Well, I must explain that it was a mistake,
and that you did not mean to be rude."
Oh, if that is apologize, we have done it already,"
said Poppy. But they said it did not signify, they
did not mind a bit."
Just at that moment voices were heard under
the window.
"There they are," cried Poppy. "There are
MIr. and Mrs. Musgrave."
So Papa ran down and made his excuses, and
the children heard a good deal of laughing and
talking. When it ceased they ran to the window,
leaned out and kissed their hands.
"We shall be on the sands presently; don't for-
get about the immense big castle," said Poppy.
"Not I," answered Mr. Musgrave. After that
the little ones had hardly sufficient patience to
finish eating their breakfasts, and when it was
over it was quite a sight to see them run upstairs
helter-skelter to be dressed.
"Oh, Nursie, how lovely!" exclaimed Poppy.
"We need not wear nasty horrid gloves; Mama says
we are only to put on our sun-bonnets and then we
shall be quite fit for the beach."
"Leave off dancing about then, Miss, and let me
tie it for you."
It was just about as much as Nurse could man-


age, for the child found it hard to hold her head
still, she was so full of excitement.
Make haste do, dear Nursie," she pleaded.
"Here is your bonnet."
"And here are your gloves," put in Daisy. "Oh,
never mind about seeing yourself in the glass.
You look quite nice, and your hair is as smooth as
smooth." So poor Nurse was dragged out; one
little girl seizing her by either hand, and both
brimful of fun and pleasure.
Nurse, like the children, loved the sea, and
enjoyed watching the people on the sand and
listening to the nigger's songs. But as Margate
is a very busy place, rather too busy in the season,
she thought it better to take them to Cliftonville,
which is the quietest end. They ran to the edge
of the sea, and standing side by side looked down
at the water as it crept up to their feet.
"It is a lovely, lovely sound," said Daisy softly.
But Poppy, who was never quiet for many moments
together, ran off for her spade and pail to dig a
long channel for 'the water to creep up. They
were not lazy children by any means, and worked
so hard that their little faces grew hot and flushed
in spite of their shady linen bonnets, and Nurse
feared they might overtire themselves. However,
before very long Mama and Papa joined them,


and the twins saw at once that the lady and
gentleman with them were Mr. and Mrs. Musgrave.
"Now for the great big castle," cried Poppy,
clapping her hands.
And what a castle it was, to be sure. I don't
think a larger one has ever been built of sand, or
a prettier one, for that matter. Poppy and Daisy
were set to work to fetch all the green sea-weed
they could find to lay out the garden round it.
Then they found tiny stones for the gravel paths,
and marked the whole out with small pieces of
white chalk. All the while they were so busy
some one was looking on, and the first person to
see him was Mrs. Montrose, who loved all little
folks and had a heart full of love and sympathy
for any who were sad or sick. This was a little
boy who stood leaning on crutches, with his dark
eyes fixed upon them. He had a little thin face,
and looked wistful, as if he would like to play too
if he were able. Mrs. MAontrose left the little
group and joined him.
"Are you alone?" she said.
His lip trembled and his eyes filled.
"Papa is in India."
"And you live here?"
"Yes. At least I am at school here; but these
are the holidays, and all the boys have gone home.


It is awfully lonely; you see I can't dig in the
sands or play, because of my legs."
He looked down at them sadly as he spoke.
Poppy had left off digging to listen; now she
threw down her spade and ran up to them.
"Would you like to help?" she asked, smiling
at him.
"Yes; but I can't run about, so I'm not any
"If you were to sit down right here on Mama's
camp-stool, you could help me stick the sea-weed
in for a grass-plot. There must be a grass-plot to
a castle of course, else the ladies and gentlemen
would not have any place to play lawn-tennis.
And everybody plays lawn-tennis now; my auntie
says it is the fashionable game. But please what
am I to call you?"
I am Willie Blunt."
"That's a pretty name. And I'm Poppy.
Come, Willie, there isn't any time to lose; it will
be dinner dreadfully soon."
So the new friends sat down, and for a while
were too busy to talk. At last Poppy, who had
been keeping very serious, looked up and said:
"Do your legs hurt much, Willie?"
Willie said no, but that his back was always
tired; .so tired that he was unable to do as many


lessons as the other boys, and often could not
sleep at nights.
Poppy was very sorry about this; but as she
did not quite know how to say so, she put her arm
round his neck and kissed him.
"How old are you, Willie?" she asked.
"I'm ten next birthday."
"And I am only eight. I wish I was as big as you."
They could not say any more just then, for
there was a great shouting-Papa, and Daisy, and
Mr. Musgrave all crying Hurrah! "
"Look! look!" cried Willie; "they have stuck
a big flag on the top of the castle."
And so they had. Mrs. Musgrave had been to
buy one, and there it was fluttering in the breeze
in such a way that even the niggers stopped to
look. Willie was as gay as any of them, and par-
ticularly pleased with the tennis-ground, which he
and Poppy had finished very neatly. Indeed they
were all sorry to find that it was the dinner-hour,
but no one more so than the little cripple.
"I sha'n't ever see you again perhaps," he said
sadly, taking Poppy by the hand and looking
nearly ready to cry.
"Mama," said Daisy, "we shall see Willie Blunt
again, sha'n't we?"
Mama, who had been watching the boy very


closely, and had quite made up her mind that he
would be a suitable companion for her little girls,
smiled kindly.
"Yes, Daisy," she said. "I know a little of
Miss Latham, the lady with whom he lives, and
when I call upon her I think she will be quite
willing to let him play with you."
Willie still looked doubtful.
"Oh, I hope she will," he cried; "but she is an
awfully nervous person. She is always afraid of
my catching something. She says people come here
when they are getting better from the chicken-pox,
and measles, and scarlet fever."
"Miss Latham is quite right to be careful; but
I am careful too. If my little girls had 'been near
any one who was ill, and the illness was catching,
I should not have let them speak to you. One
cannot be too particular."
"But, Mama," cried Poppy, with a red face,
"we could not give him scarlet fever if we had
not got it ourselves."
"I am not so sure of that, my love; you might
carry it in your clothes."
"Carry what, Mama,-the catchingness?"
Every one laughed but Poppy.
"Why, yes," replied Mrs. Montrose, seeing that
she waited for an answer.
(479) 0


Then the child turned away from the elder folks
and joined her sister.
"Daisy," she said, touching her white frock,
"don't you remember that we had these frocks on
when we went to see Sarah Anne. Oh! I do wish
we had told."
"You are a nasty, bothering thing," said Daisy
crossly. "What a fuss you make. What can it
signify? It is ages and ages ago since we went to
see Sarah Anne."
"No, it is not," cried Poppy. "It was only
the day before yesterday. Oh! I do wish I could
tell Mama; but I can't. When I try to, some-
thing comes up in my throat."
"What does it feel like, Pop?"
"Oh! I don't know. All horrid and choky,"
cried Poppy, clasping her little hands round her
"Fiddlesticks!" grumbled Daisy, that being
Nurse's favourite word. "Oh! Pop! Pop! there
is an organ-man with a funny monkey that has
a red coat on. Let us go and see."
Off they ran at the top of their speed; but
Poppy did not find the monkey half so droll as
she expected.
She had something on her mind, you see.




M RS. MONTROSE was rather surprised that the
children gave no sign of pleasure when ten
days later she proposed to take them with her to
call on Miss Latham. She had quite expected a
shout of glee, but instead of this they merely kept
their places by the window, Daisy looking a trifle
sulky, Poppy flushed and uncomfortable.
"Have you altered your minds, my dears?" said
their mama. Do you not wish to have Willie as
a companion? Why, only yesterday you were
begging me to invite him to tea, and that, as you
very well know, I cannot do until I have asked
permission of his governess."
"Indeed, Mama, we do want him very much."
"And yet you are not willing to give up your
play for one morning in order to go with me and
see about it. I am sorry my little girls are so
selfish. Well, I can go by myself just as well."
And Mrs. Montrose walked off, looking quite hurt.
She had not gone far before she heard little feet
pursuing her, and turning, saw Daisy out of breath
with running.


"Please take me, Mama," she cried.
"What! without Poppy? I thought you were
never happy apart."
"Pop won't come; she is a great silly," stam-
mered the child. Mrs. Montrose took her hand,
but made no remark. She was puzzled.
Meanwhile Poppy, whose conscience was telling
her all sorts of things, walked down to the shore
at Nurse's side, grumbling at the sun in a very
discontented way, and declaring that she could not
play alone. Nurse was speaking to one of her
friends, and did not waste her time talking to an
ill-tempered little girl; so that Poppy had no one
to quarrel with, although she was just in the mood
to do so. So she sat apart, and wished with all
her heart that she was brave enough to tell all
about Sarah Anne and the scarlet fever. It was
very well for Daisy to pretend it was nothing, and
that there was no harm in what they had done;
but Poppy knew better. She could think of no-
thing else. After a while Mrs. Musgrave, who
was sitting a little distance off, saw the child, and
called her to her. Poppy went at once, walking
slowly, and dragging her spade and pail after her
in a very listless fashion.
"Why, what is the matter, Puss?" asked the
lady. "You look serious"


Poppy settled down beside her. I feel serious,"
she said. "I am thinking about something very
serious indeed. Perhaps you can tell me, Mrs.
Musgrave, how long it is before you begin to have
scarlet fever?"
"I do not understand, love."
"If you had caught it, I mean," said the child
impatiently, "how long would it be before you
came out red all over?"
"I think about a fortnight, dear; but what a
funny question!"
I don't think it is funny, Mrs. Musgrave; and
it would not be at all funny to catch it."
Not by any means. But who is going to catch
it? Not you, I hope."
"I hope not, too," continued the little girl. "It
would be horrid. And if it was my own fault it
would be horrider still."
It could not well be a person's own fault," said
Mrs. Musgrave laughing. "No one would be ill
on purpose, I suppose."
Poppy neither said yes nor no, but she looked
more serious than ever. When Mrs. Montrose
joined them she was surprised that her news did
not make Poppy more cheerful. She had seen
Miss Latham, and arranged for Willie to come to
tea that very night. Miss Latham had consented


willingly on being assured that there was no danger
of their having brought any infectious disease from
home with them.
"But, Mama," said Poppy, "perhaps it is not
safe; there was scarlet fever at home, Sarah Anne
Saunders had it. Suppose we were to have it
"What nonsense, child; you had nothing to do
with Sarah Anne. If I had let you go to see her
as you wished it might have been very different."
I would not talk about it too much," whispered
Mrs. Musgrave. "The child is evidently ex-
tremely nervous;" so no more was said on the
But it was not till Willie Blunt arrived that
Poppy brightened up. Up to then she kept saying
to herself, over and over again, "We have been
here a fortnight to-day, and Mrs Musgrave said it
would be a fortnight before a person got red all
over. Oh, dear! What should I do if Daisy
caught it?"
It was Daisy she was frightened about; all the
more so because she was so very pale to-night, and
could not eat her tea, though there were some
beautiful red and white currants, and a lovely plum
cake, of which she was particularly fond. Poppy
felt quite cross with her for keeping on saying that


she was not hungry. She ought to be hungry with
such nice things on the table. Only last night she
had eaten ever so much plain bread and butter,
which is not nearly so tempting as cake and red
currants. But when she was sick after tea, and
had to lie down on the sofa, Poppy was no longer
cross, only very much alarmed. She and Willie
went off together to play, but the boy soon saw
that his little hostess was too dull and miserable
even to help him put a puzzle together, and that
she hardly heard a word he was saying to her.
"Poppy dear," he asked gently, "shall I tell
you a story?"
"A story," cried Poppy, bursting into tears.
"Oh, don't talk about stories. I told a story
myself to-day to mother; at least I did not exactly
tell it, but I let her believe something that wasn't
true. It was awfully, dreadfully wicked and de-
ceitful. And when she knows about it she will
never love me again, never, never, never!"
That was all her friend could get her to say,
though he was very kind and wiped away her
tears with his own little spotted pocket-handker-
chief, the very one in which he had tied up some
cockles in the afternoon. If Mama had come in
just then she would soon have found out that her
little girl had been crying; but she was busy put-


ting Daisy to bed, and she looked quite sad and
anxious when she called the others in to have
their supper. When Poppy crept into bed Daisy
was sleeping, but she did not look at all like herself.
" So flushed!" exclaimed Papa. Poppy shuddered
and looked very close. Would Daisy get spots
over her like Sarah Anne Saunders, she wondered?
"It is that nasty paddling," said Mama. "I
was afraid the sun would be too hot on their
"Poor little maiden," said Papa, kissing the
slumbering child. "Don't wake her up, Poppy,
whatever you do."
"No," said Poppy gravely. "And it was the
sun that made her ill, wasn't it, Mama?"
"I expect so, my pet. I dare say Daisy will be
quite well in the morning."
"Oh, yes! I am sure she will," said Poppy
cheerfully; but for all that she lay awake for
quite half an hour thinking. All through the
night Daisy was restless. In the morning, the
moment Poppy awoke she sat upright to look at
her sister.
"Oh, Daisy, Daisy!" she cried, "you are red
all over like Sarah Anne. It is the scarlet fever."
Daisy opened her eyes very wide, but they had
no expression in them, they looked dim and dazed.


"Good morning, Mama," she said, staring at
"I am not Mama, you little goosie. I am
"Poppies grow in the fields at home, all among
the corn, and corn-flowers too. Pick me a lot; I
want a great big bunch," said Daisy in the same
odd way.
I don't want to play now, and I don't see any
good in talking nonsense," answered Poppy testily.
"I wish you would not be so silly."
"Silly, silly, silly," whispered Daisy over and
over again, till Poppy put her fingers in her ears
so as not to hear it any more. She did not like
the look of her little sister's face, it was so red,
and her voice was strange and thick; besides
which, she kept rolling her head from side to side
on the pillow, and evidently did not know her at
all, though she kept touching her and calling her
by her name. Poppy was dreadfully frightened.
Not knowing what to do, she jumped out of bed,
and stood still in the middle of the floor in order
to consider.
"I must tell. I must tell," she cried at last, and
her little face turned as pale as her sister's was
red. She opened the door of Nurse's room, which
led out of her's, and knew that it must be early


yet, because Nurse lay sleeping, snoring very loud
indeed. But Poppy did not think it signified at
all whether it was early or late. Daisy was ill,
and of course Mama must come to her. A
moment's more thought and the child was in her
mother's room, the pretty pink dressing-gown and
warm knitted slippers left behind this time.
"My pet!" cried Mama, starting up from her
sleep in terror, "what is it? You have nothing
on, you will catch your death of cold!"
"Oh, Mama! dear Mama! What does that
matter? Daisy is ill; she is talking all sorts of
nonsense, and her face is as red as red, and she
thought I was you. It is scarlet fever. I know
it is. I gave it to her myself. I am sure I did.
We got it off Sarah Anne, and we had our white
frocks on. And oh, Mama! Mama! perhaps we
have given it to you, and Papa, and Mr. and Mrs.
Musgrave, and Willie Blunt."
Here the little girl burst into floods of tears,
and they could hear little of what she said except
that she was "Oh, so sorry," and that she and Daisy
were both very wicked, but she was wickeder than
Daisy ever so much.
Mrs. Montrose did not stop to hear all this,
she flew across to the sick child; and Poppy, lying
beside her father, sobbed as if her heart would

break. He was very patient and gentle; but
when the whole truth came out Poppy knew that
she had never seen him look so grieved before.
"To think," he said sadly, "that my little girls
should have been so disobedient, so deceitful.
There have been so many opportunities for you to
tell, so many times when you could have come to
us and said, We disobeyed you, but we are very,
very sorry.'"
"Yes, I know, I know," gasped Poppy. "And
oh! I have wanted to tell so much, only a horrid
thing came up in my throat, and I couldn't. I
seemed as if I would choke. Oh, Papa! Papa! do
forgive me. I will never be so naughty again.
You will forgive me, won't you; if God won't, you
Then Papa explained to her that God loved her,
so he would be sure to forgive her; and that he,
her papa, loved her too, and was not angry, only
"I ought to be punished," cried poor Poppy.
"No," said Papa, I don't mean to punish you.
When you do wrong, punishment is sure to follow
of itself."
"I don't understand, Papa."
"You will if you think for a moment, my dear."
Poppy pushed her hair out of her eyes and tried


to think as well as she could, though her head'
ached dreadfully.
"I know what the punishment is," she said at
last. "It is Daisy's being ill, and my being
miserable, and you and Mama being so dreadfully
"Yes, all that, my love; and I trust there may be
nothing worse," said Papa looking very anxious,
and with great puckers in his forehead that were
not often there.
Poppy jumped out of the bed, and kneeling down
beside it buried her little swollen face in the clothes,
and.whispered very low.
Please God forgive me, because Papa and Mama
have; and please God make Daisy better, and send
the horrid red spots right away."
She felt all the better for saying this little prayer,
and was quiet and grave when Nurse came to fetch
her; and very helpful in fastening her own clothes,
besides standing quite still and never moving her
head an inch to one side or the other when Nurse
combed her hair, not even when she gave an acci-
dental pull which hurt a good deal. Breakfast
was a very strange meal. Papa and Poppy were
alone together, and before it was quite over the
doctor came. He looked very grave when he
came downstairs again after seeing Daisy, and so

did the other grown-up folks; but Poppy felt much
happier herself for having told the whole truth,
and was beginning to think everything would be
all right soon. It was dull though to sit by her-
self in the dining-room when the sun was so bright,
the sky so blue, the sea so sparkling, and the sands
covered with merry little diggers. Poppy won-
dered whether she would go out soon with Nurse;
but Nurse never came near her nor did Papa. The
child leant out of the window and began to think
of Willie Blunt, and to fancy that she quite under-
stood now how lonely he must feel when he could
not join the other children in their play.
At last Mama came in and Poppy spoke. "Mama,
may I go and speak to Mrs. Musgrave."
"Certainly not, my dear; it is quite likely they
may be afraid of contagion. Daisy has scarlet
fever, and Dr. North considers it a serious case."
"But, Mama, I could put on another frock."
"My dear child, you will have to keep away
from everyone."
"Mustn't I speak to Tillie?"
"Indeed no! I think, dear Poppy, after what
has happened that I need not fear your disobeying
me a second time."
"No, Mama," answered Poppy humbly.
"You must know," continued Mama, speaking


very seriously, "that your disobedience is causing
sad inconvenience to Papa and me. Our landlady
will not be able to let the other rooms in the house,
and we shall have a great deal of money to pay.
Then again we are most anxious about Willie
Blunt; if my little girls had told me the truth
they would have prevented me from calling on
Miss Latham, and perhaps saved Willie a serious
"I knew I ought to tell. That is why I would
not come with you," said Poppy.
Here she began to cry again, and I really think
she had good reason.



BUT perhaps the greatest trouble Poppy had at
this time was being shut out from her sister;
she longed to go and sit beside her, and it was, of
course, impossible. The days passed slowly and
wearily. Nurse took Poppy down to the shore;
but she never would let her speak to any other
child, and the poor little thing found digging alone
very slow work. She used to stand and watch the


merry little groups of boys and girls from a dis-
tance, and the more cheerfully they laughed and
talked the more dull did she feel. One afternoon
Papa took her out and gave her a donkey-ride.
"Oh, how Daisy would like to be here," said
Poppy with a sigh.
Papa did not answer, and the little girl thought
he looked dreadfully sad. He smiled with his lips
to be sure when the donkey-boy started the donkey
off at a canter, and Poppy passed him with her
bright hair waving in the breeze, and her cheeks
glowing; but it was only with his lips, his eyes
were quite grave.
It seemed to the little girl that grown-up per
sons were rather fussy. Of course Daisy would
soon be well; she had been in bed for more than a
week now, and when she was running about again
Nurse would have to leave off sighing, and the
doctor would have no reason to shake his silly old
head, and speak in that nasty low voice of his,
which made everything sound like a secret. Poppy
thought it was very rude even to look as if you did
not want persons to hear what you said. Mama
always said, "Speak out, my dear, it is not polite
to whisper," if she spoke to Daisy in a low voice,
and Poppy would have liked to do the same by
Dr. North.


"I think he ought to know better," she used to
say to Nurse; "besides I want to hear all about
Daisy, too, and I think he ought to tell me, because
I am her twin."
Dr. North drove by just at this very moment,
and seeing Mr. Montrose stopped his carriage at
once. Poppy pulled her donkey up short, and held
her head in the air. The whispering had begun
again, and she thought they would see by her looks
just what she thought of it. But they never
glanced in her direction, so she need not have tried
to look cross and grand. Mr. Montrose was lean-
ing over the side of Dr. North's brougham, listen-
ing very attentively to what he said; once he put
his hand to his eyes and kept it there for quite a
long while. Poppy thought that was because the
sun was so very strong, and wished that it was
proper for gentlemen to carry parasols. Of course
their eyes were no better able to bear too much
light than ladies' were, and they could not wear
comfortable shady hats, or cool white sun-bonnets
like Daisy and herself. Poppy felt sure this was
a great mistake, because when Papa joined her
again she saw that his eyes were quite wet, and
could not meet her's when she raised them to his
"What does Dr. North say?" asked the little


girl. "When will Daisy be able to have a nonzey-
ride, I wonder? When she does she shall have
this very one I am on. He is a good donkey and
his name is Sam. The donkey-boy is Tom Ford.
He told me so. And he has to work very hard,
for his mother is poor and his father has not got
any work. Papa, how soon will Daisy be able to
go jiggety-jog on a donkey with me? She must be
pretty strong first, because it shakes one up so, and
it isn't nice to be shaken up after one has had the
scarlet fever. I feel rather funny myself. I think
I will get down. Good-bye, Tom Ford. Please
take care of Sam, and be very kind to him."
After this long speech Poppy let Papa lift her
off, and walked away with her hand in his, wonder-
ing why he did not answer her.
"Papa," she said again, after they had kept
silence for a very long while, "when will Daisy be
well enough to have a ride with me?"
Papa sat down and drew the little girl close to
"Poppy," he said, "Daisy is very ill: so weak
that she cannot speak or eat. Dr. North is most
"You were asking him about her, weren't you,
Papa? What did he say just now? Papa, dear
Papa! Surely you are not crying!"
(479) D


Poppy s voice rose to a frightened shriek, for the
tears were in her father's eyes. Surely something
very dreadful must have happened.
"My darling," said Papa gently, "sometimes
Mama and I fear that our dear Daisy will never
be able to run about again; sometimes we think
that we shall never see her cheeks bright and rosy
as they used to be, or hear her merry voice and
"Oh, no, don't say that, it can't be true,"
pleaded the little girl, wringing her hands.
"Whatever happens, God knows best; but it is
sad, very sad," continued her father, speaking more
to himself than to her. Indeed he had not meant
Sto say anything to alarm her, the words had been
dragged from him by the shock of what Dr. North
had said. When he saw how troubled she was he
tried his best to soothe her. But Poppy would
not be soothed. She drew her hand away, and
ran off at the top of her speed.
"I must go and see my dear Daisy," she cried.
Oh, Papa, Papa! do not stop me."
He could not at first, for she sped along swiftly,
dashing past every. one and pushing aside all who
were in her path. Not until she reached their
lodgings did her father overtake her.
Then he was out of breath and panting.

"My dear child," he said, "why are you hurry-
ing so? What were you saying?"
"I must go and see my dear Daisy," repeated
Poppy, turning her face towards him.
Papa laid his hands upon her shoulders.
"My dear, you must understand once for all
that it is impossible. Promise me you will re-
member that your Mama and I strictly forbid you
to go near her room. We are in great sorrow
about our dear little girl, we should be in deeper
grief still were you to fall ill. And you cannot
have forgotten so soon that had you not been dis-
obedient before this misfortune would not have
come upon us."
Poppy was sobered in a moment. She lifted
her eyes to her father's face, and said solemnly:
"I do want to see Daisy ever so much, Papa.
You see I am so fond of her because she is my
twin; but I have not forgotten, so I promise."
The tears were rolling down her cheeks as she
passed the door of her little sister's bed-room, but
she never looked that way. Mama and Nurse
were both in there, she could hear them speaking
very soft and low. Why did every one whisper?
she wondered. It would be much more cheerful
if they spoke in their natural voices. Tea was
laid in the dining-room, and Poppy was very


hungry after her ride, but no one came. The
little girl fetched a cosy from the side-board
drawer, and slipped it over the tea-pot.
"There now, try and keep hot, silly thing," she
said. "I have put your night-cap on, for grown-
up folks like their tea scalding hot."
The window was open and the evening breeze
blew softly, bringing with it the scent of the
climatis that grew up the side of the house. Poppy
sat down patiently with her doll upon her lap and
waited. Presently a little parcel wrapped in paper
came spinning across the room and alighted on
dolly's white frock. Poppy sprang to her feet in
great excitement. It seemed to have come from
the street below. Who could have thrown it?
She ran to the window in a tremendous hurry.
There stood Willie Blunt leaning on his crutches
and laughing.
"Oh it was you, Willie, was it?" she cried; "I
never thought of you. Thank you very much."
"But you don't know what is in the parcel; it
might be a black bettle," answered he, "then it
would be thank you for nothing."
"I don't believe it is anything at all nasty,
but I will open it and see. Don't run away,
"I don't mean to run away; I like to look at


you. Stand just there, Poppy, and see what is in
the parcel."
Poppy tore the paper off, and found a big
packet of butter-Scotch, a sweetmeat of which
Willie knew her to be particularly fond. No
wonder he liked to look at her, there is nothing
pleasanter to see than a happy, smiling face, and
Poppy's was both. She was always grateful for
any kindness shown to her.
"Oh! you dear, good Willie," she cried, "I wish
I might come down and kiss you."
"Mightn't you, Poppy?"
"No, Papa said not; I promised, but I should
like to, awfully."
"If you promised not, of course you couldn't.
A boy wouldn't be a gentleman if he broke his
promise, so I suppose a girl wouldn't be a lady."
That is just it," put in Mr. Montrose. He had
come in unobserved and stood looking over Poppy's
shoulder. "I am sorry I can't ask you up, little
man," continued he, "for. Poppy is lonely without
Daisy, and Mama and I are not cheerful compan-
ions just now."
May I come and talk to her a bit every day,
sir? I can't catch anything all this way off."
"Yes, come by all means, just for a few


"Thank you, sir. Good evening."
Willie lifted his hat like the little gentleman he
wished to be, and which, had he but known it,
he already was; for there is no surer mark of a
gentleman than the kind obliging ways which
come quite naturally to those who have good
"I am afraid you are desperately hungry,
Poppy," said Papa.
Poppy glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece,
the hands pointed to seven.
"I am rather," she said, beginning on her bread
and butter in a way that made Papa think the
rather must mean very. He did not eat much him-
self, however, although it was so late, and there was
still a great sadness in his eyes. Poppy, who had
been gradually recovering her spirits, grew grave
again; and though she helped herself to a good
many slices of bread and butter, because it was so
very long since dinner, they did not taste nearly
so nice as usual. She was not sorry either when
it was half-past eight, and Papa reminded her that
it was bed-time. He told her at the same time
that he should like her to say her prayers to him
before she went upstairs. He was sitting in the
arm-chair, and she knelt down at once and began
in a low serious voice, speaking slowly and dis-


tinctly, just as her Mama had taught her, When
she came to "Pray, God, bless Papa, and Mama,
and Daisy," her voice trembled so much that she
was obliged to leave off altogether. Papa laid his
hand upon her little curly head, and said gently:
"If it please Thee, 0 God, let us keep our dar-
ling Daisy."
Please, God, make Daisy well," pleaded Poppy
with a sob. Then she rose to her feet, kissed her
father, and ran upstairs, pausing a moment at her
sister's door. She could hear Daisy talking in
that odd voice that was not a bit like her own,
and could even distinguish the words she said.
It was all about Floss, the little pet dog they had
left behind them at home, and she spoke as if it
were in the room with her.
"Let me put your collar on, naughty Floss," she
cried; "why don't you sit still?" This sounded
cheerful enough; but all of a sudden her voice
changed to a fretful cry. "Oh, Mama, Mama, I
want Poppy," she complained, "I am so very
lonely. Why does she not come and see me? Oh,
Poppy, Poppy, dear, I do want you so."
It was all her sister could do to prevent running
in; it made her heart ache to think that Daisy
should ask for her so piteously, and all in vain.
Why might she not see her for a moment, just to


give her one kiss and tell her that it was through
no fault of her own that she stayed away? Her
little hand found its way to the door handle and
rested there. Should she turn it and enter? It
could not do much harm; she would be chased out
again at once, of course, but she would at least
have caught a glimpse of Daisy. These thoughts
and longings quite filled the little girl's mind for
a few moments; then conscience began to whisper
better things.
"No, no, I will not do it. I promised," cried
Poppy, running off to her own bed-room as fast as
her legs would carry her. Nurse met her with the
usual "hush, dear," to which she was pretty well
accustomed by now, and for the first time Poppy
noticed how tired she looked, and that her eyes
were red as if she had been crying.
"Is Daisy worse?" asked Poppy anxiously.
"Indeed and she is, poor lamb," replied Nurse
shaking her head. That was all she would say;
and though she made believe she was not crying
at all, only using her pocket-handkerchief, Poppy
knew better.
If Daisy dies and goes to heaven I won't be
left behind," she cried passionately. Daisy and I
are twins, and we mustn't be separated. Papa and
Mama both say that twins are fonder of one an-

other than any other kind of children. So of
course it wouldn't be fair of God to take Daisy
"Hlush! Miss Poppy. It is very wrong indeed
for little girls to talk like that."
I won't hush, Nurse," answered the little girl
with big tears rolling down her cheeks. But she
left off talking for all that, and lay quite still with
her eyes closed. At first it seemed to be of no use
to try and go to sleep, but by and by without
knowing how she dropped off, for she was very
tired, and it was long past her usual bed-time. In
the middle of the night she awoke and began to
wonder directly how Daisy was. She wondered
so much that she could not lie still any longer.
"I will go and ask Nurse," she said, springing
out of bed and pattering across to the next room;
but with dressing-gown and shoes on, for Poppy
had not forgotten that Mama was always anxious
about her catching cold. She did not mean to
startle Nurse if she could help it, so she stepped
lightly and on tip-toe; it was no fault of hers that
the nasty boards would creak.
"Nurse," she whispered softly. No answer.
"Nurse," a little louder still; but no one spoke.
Poppy grew impatient; she advanced to the bed-
side and felt for Nurse's shoulder, she would give


it just the least little shake in the world. But
strange to say the bed was empty.
Poppy was frightened, there is no denying that,
dreadfully frightened. Whatever could have be-
come of poor old Nurse? It was very tiresome
when she had made up her mind, too, to find out
how Daisy was. Well, Mama would tell her, she
knew, nor did she fear being scolded for disturbing
her. It was only natural that twins should be
anxious about one another. But another and a
greater disappointment awaited poor Poppy.
Neither Mama nor Papa were to be found.
The gas burned brightly in their room, but the bed
was smooth and creaseless. It was quite clear no
one had slept there at all. This was really alarm-
ing, things were getting worse and worse. With
heart beating fast she ran downstairs, and with-
out a moment's hesitation knocked at the door
of Daisy's room. No one heard her. She stood
shivering outside; within there was the sound of
subdued sobbing. Poppy knocked again, it was
more than she could bear. This time the door was
opened and Dr. North stood on the threshold.
She pushed past him and peeped in. It was Nurse
who was crying. Daisy lay in Mama's arms.
Papa's face was hidden by his hands, but he
raised it when Poppy called to him and turned to-

wards the doctor. "I think she had better come
in," he said gently.
"Perhaps you are right," answered the doctor;
"it may give our little patient a better chance."
He spoke very low, but Poppy heard every word.
She flew past him in a moment, and climbing on
the bed twined her arms about her sister. Was
it really Daisy who lay there, merry laughing
Daisy, now alas! so still and white.
Why even her voice was different, quite feeble
and broken.
"Pop," she whispered, "dear, darling Pop."
Are you better?" asked Poppy. "Oh, Daisy, say
you are better."
"No, no, I can't. I am not better, and I sha'n't
ever be. I am going to die, Poppy dear. But it
doesn't signify; I shall be ever so happy up in
heaven with God and the white angels, and all of
you will come to me by and by. Papa says so.
I was just talking about you, and waiting to say
good-bye; so Mama said she would go and fetch
you. Kiss me, Poppy dear."
Poppy did so over and over again; but she could
not speak at all, because she was crying very




T was Dr. North who had told Mr. and Mrs.
Montrose that he feared their dear little
Daisy would not live many hours longer. If it
had not been for this Poppy would never have been
allowed to enter her room. But her mother and
father felt that they could not keep the children
apart any longer, and could hardly bear to listen
to Daisy's entreaties that she might see Poppy She
never left off begging, and at last they found it
quite impossible to refuse to grant the request;
for Papa and Mama loved her so that they would
gladly have given their lives for hers. But God,
who is so very good, asked no such sacrifice of
them, and in spite of Dr. North's doubts and fears
Daisy was spared to them. The cleverest of
doctors make mistakes sometimes. The very next
day they saw a difference in her; her pulse was
better, her eyes a trifle less dim, her voice stronger,
and she was able to swallow a little of the beauti-
ful jelly Mrs. Musgrave had sent.
But Poppy was not permitted to see her again,
and as soon as Daisy was considered out of danger


Poppy was sent home with Nurse. Very dull it
was in the big house; for weeks the rain fell almost
incessantly, and the autumn leaves lay brown and
sodde,' mn the ground. Poppy wandered up and
down stairs, and looked at the gray sky and slant-
ing rain. She had a cold, and her head ached.
Nurse grew very anxious, and would place the
handle of a nasty cold tea-spoon on her tongue, and
look down her throat every morning. But it was
not a bit sore all the time. Poppy was far from
happy; for though the news about Daisy was good
something very distressing had happened. The
day after Willie Blunt had given her the butter-
Scotch he had fallen ill, and of course it turned
out to be that horrid scarlet fever. There seemed
no end to the punishment for her disobedience.
Papa had been quite right in saying that it would
come of itself. As the weeks grew into months
the child's bright spirits flagged, and she had no
heart to play. But at last, when she had grown
quite weary with expectation, the looked-for letter
came. In a week the travellers would return.
"A week! only a week! cried Poppy, dancing
with glee. But oh! how slowly the week passed.
The child could neither sleep nor eat properly, and
Nurse was in a dreadful way.
At last, late in October, when the air was crisp,


and Poppy declared she could "smell winter," the
little party returned. Poppy, and Floss, and
Nurse were on the platform awaiting their arrival.
When the train stopped Floss gave an excited
yelp, and Poppy shouted for joy. There they
were, first Papa, then Mama, then Daisy, ever so
much taller, and closely wrapped in soft warm
furs. But who was that little boy? Not Willie
Blunt! That could not be! Yes, Willie Blunt,
by all that was wonderful. Willie Blunt, brought
home to Springbourne to get well and strong, and
drink the rich cream, and breathe the fresh country
Was there ever such a happy meeting? Never,
surely! Poppy's appetite came back, so did her
smiles and dimples. But she could not get on
fast with her cake, because she left off every few
minutes to throw her arms round Daisy's neck.
And Mama and Papa were happy, too, if looks go
for anything.
There was only one thing to regret, and that
was that Aunt Nellie and Grandma were not
there to welcome them and join in their happiness.
But even that would soon be set right, for a letter
arrived that very evening, full of kind messages
and congratulations. Aunt Nellie was at Bourne-
mouth with Grandma, who was never very strong.


But she was much better now, and in a few days
they would be home again.
"Hurrah! Hurrah!" cried the children; and
Willie Blunt joined in quite as heartily.
At last came bed-time, although the little girls
declared, as they always did, that it was ever so
much too soon. Poppy, who had been laughing
and talking more than any one, grew suddenly
sober as she threw her arms around her father's
neck, and when she and Daisy knelt down side by
side to repeat their evening prayer, she folded her
hands, and said softly:
Thank you, dear kind God, for making Daisy and
Willie well; and, please, when I am going to be dis-
obedient again, make me remember all about Sarah
Anne Saunders"





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Hidden Seed. By EMMA LESLIE.
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Sepperl the Drummer Boy. By
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Lost and Found. By Mrs. CARL
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From over the Sea By L. E. TIDDE-
The Kitchen Cat. By AMY WALTON.
The Royal Eagle. By LouIsA THOMP-
Two Little Mice. By Mrs. GARLICK.
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Chris's Old Violin. By J. LOOKHART.
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The Tree Cake. By W. L. ROOPER.
Nurse Peggy, and Little Dog Trip.
Fanny's King. By DARLEY DALE.
Wild Marsh Marigolds. ByD. DFAL
Kitty's Cousin.
Cleared at Last.
Little Dolly Forbes. By ANNIE S.
A Year with Nellie. By A. S. FENN.
The Little Brown Bird.
The Maid of Domremy.
Little Erie: a Story of Honesty.
Uncle Ben the Whaler.
The Palace of Luxury.
The Charcoal Burner.
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The Horse and His Ways.
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A Start in Life. By J. LOOKHART.
Happy Childhood.
Dorothy's Clock.
Toddy. By L. E. TIDDEMAN.
Stories about my Dolls.
Stories about my Cat Timothy.
Delia's Boots. By W. L. ROOPER.
Lost on the Rocks. By R. ScoTTEr.
A Kitten's Adventures.
Holidays at Sunnycroft. [By ANNIE
Climbing the Hill. By Do.
A Year at Coverley. By Do.

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Papa's Birthday. By W. L. ROOPER
The Charm Fairy. By PENELOPE.
Little Tales for Little Children.
Worthy of Trust.
Brave and True. By GREGSON GOW.
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