Mary: A Nursery Story for Very Little Children

by Mrs. Molesworth

she'll be all right when she wakes up.The best and strongest of babies have their little turns. Don't look sotroubled, my dears."

  Just then Emma, who had had her breakfast before, came into the room,and was crossing to the door which led into the night-nursery, when shewas stopped.

  "I'll tidy the room myself this morning, Emma," said nurse. "I don'twant any one to go in. Miss Dolly's not very well."

  "She's been very cross this day or two, crying enough to make herselfill. You spoil her, nurse, that's what I say," said Emma, pertly.

  Nurse made no reply, except to repeat her orders to Emma not to enterthe bedroom.

  As soon as breakfast was over, the three children--Artie and Mary withclean pinafores, and all with smoothed hair and nicely-washed hands--went downstairs as usual to the dining-room for prayers. But to theirsurprise their mamma was not there, nor was nurse. They did not wondermuch about nurse, however, for they knew some one would have to staybeside baby in case she woke.

  But to-day several things seemed strange and different from usual.Instead of going up to the nursery again their father told them theywere all to go to the little study where Leigh and Artie did theirlessons with their tutor.

  "For baby must not be disturbed," he said, "and if you were all playingin the nursery the noise would go through to the other room."

  "Mayn't I go up to the nursery, papa dear?" asked Mary. "Just me. I'dbe _kite_ quiet. I don't like to be away from nursie and baby," and hervoice sounded as if she were going to cry. "And I don't know what to dowhen Mr Fibbetts comes."

  "Mr _Phillips_," said papa. "You're getting too big to talk sobabyishly, Mary. And you mustn't be selfish, my dear. If you can playquietly in the nursery you can play quietly in the study, or perhapsI'll send Emma to take you out a little."

  "I don't want Emma. I want mamma, and nursie and Dolly," said Mary.

  She thought her papa was rather "c'oss," and she was not used to hisbeing the least cross. And she was unhappy about baby; and deep down inher heart was a sort of fear she tried not to think about. Mary hadnever been so unhappy in all her life before.

  The fear was not in _her_ heart only. Leigh and Artie were feeling justthe same. At first when they found themselves alone in the study theyall three tried to pretend there was nothing the matter. They hid awaythe fear, and covered it up, and told it to go to sleep. But fears likethat are very troublesome. They won't go to sleep; just as we think wehave got them safely shut in and all seems still, up they jump again,and there they are knocking at the door, not only of our hearts, but ofour _consciences_.

  "You have done wrong," they say, "and wrongdoing brings trouble."

  And after a while the two little brothers and their sister left offpretending. They sat down close together on the hearthrug and looked ateach other.

  "Leigh," said Artie, in a strange hushed sort of voice, "do you thinkBaby Dolly's _very_ ill?"

  Mary did not speak; but she looked up in Leigh's face, so that he turnedhis head away.

  "How should I know?" he said roughly.

  "You heard as much as I did. Babies are often ill."

  But both the others knew quite well that he was just as unhappy as theywere.

  "Oh, Leigh," said Mary at last, her voice trembling, "do you think itcan be 'cos of--" but here she stopped.

  Leigh turned round sharply. His face was white, but still he tried tobe angry.

  "Why can't you speak out, you silly girl?" he said. "Why don't you saywhat you mean?--that I've made her ill by the tumbling out of theperambulator? Nonsense, she fell on the top of Janie Perry, and Janiesaid she came quite softly. How _could_ it have hurt her?"

  "I don't know," said Mary, but she spoke very sadly.

  "There's was a little boy," began Artie, "wot fell out of a winder, andhe jumped up and said he wasn't hurt, but then he was killed."

  "What do you mean?" said Leigh. "How was he killed if he wasn't hurt?"

  "I mean he died soon," said Artie. "P'raps it was the next day. He washurt inside his head though it wasn't blooding outside."

  "And babies are so dellykid," said Mary.

  Leigh gave a sort of angry grunt, something between a sob and a scold.Certainly Mary and Artie were not comforting. But did he deservecomforting? It was true he had meant no harm at all to dear baby. Hehad thought it would be fun for her as well as for the others andhimself--most for himself, I am afraid--if Fuzz could be taught to drawher carriage quite well, like the dogs papa had told them about. But,had it been right to do it secretly, without anybody's leave? He hadturned it and twisted it so in his mind that he had persuaded himself heonly wanted to "surprise" everybody, for one reason; and for another,that nurse was so silly and fussy; and for still another, that there wasno need to tease papa and mamma about every little plan for amusingthemselves that he and the others made.

  But now, somehow, none of these reasons seemed any good; they allslipped and melted away as if there was nothing real in them.

  And then there was the second piece of concealment--the hiding about theaccident. There was no good excuse for that. Leigh's own firstfeelings had been to tell at once, and Janie Perry had trusted that hewould. Why had he given in to Emma? Was it really out of pity for herand her mother; or was it partly--a good big "partly"--that he wasafraid of being very much scolded himself? As he got to this point ofhis gloomy thoughts Leigh gave another groan; it was much more of agroan this time, as if he could not bear his own unhappiness.

  Then, for he had covered up his eyes, he felt a little hand stealinground his neck--it was Mary.

  "Oh, Leigh, dear poor Leigh," she whispered. "I _are_ so sorry for you,and I are so miderable."

  Leigh drew the trembling, quivering little creature to him, and left offtrying to keep up. Artie crept near to them, and they all criedtogether.

  Then Leigh started up.

  "I'll go and tell now," he said, "now, this minute. It's been all myfault, and I don't care what Emma says, nor how I'm scolded. P'raps,_p'raps_, the doctor'll be able to do something, even if her head ishurt inside the way that boy's was."

  He kissed the two others and started off. He seemed away a long time;but, alas! when he came back there was no look of comfort or hope in hisface. It was only very white, and his eyes very red.

  "It's no good," he said, flinging himself down on a chair and burstingout crying. "It's no good. That's my punishment. Now that I want totell I can't."

  Mary and Artie could not understand.

  "Was you too f'ightened, poor Leigh?" said Mary. "Shall I go?"

  "No, no, it's not about me. It's this way. Papa's gone, ever so longago. He's gone to the station, and I think he was going to see thedoctor on the way. And mamma and nurse are shut up in the night-nurserywith baby, not to be disturbed by _nobody_," said Leigh, forgetting hisgrammar in his distress. "I saw Emma, but _she's_ no good, she'd onlytell stories to keep herself from being scolded. But I do think shelooks frightened about baby. Oh dear, what _shall_ I do? Darling BabyDolly, and it's all my fault. I see it now;" and Leigh flung himself onto the floor and burst out sobbing again.

  "Leigh, Leigh, poor Leigh," said Mary and Artie together.

  "Mr Fibbetts will be coming," said Mary in a moment, "and then I'llhave to go out with Emma. Oh, I don't want to go."

  Leigh looked up.

  "Mr Phillips won't be coming," he said, "I forgot. Everything's beenso strange to-day. It's Saturday, Mary. He doesn't come on Saturdays.You shan't go out with Emma if you don't want. She's a untrue bad girl;it's a good deal her fault, though she's not been half so wicked as me."

  "You've not been wicked, dear Leigh. You didn't mean any harm," sobbedMary.

  "And we've _all_ been naughty for not telling," added Artie.

  "Oh, but what _are_ we to do?" cried Leigh again. "The doctor'll becoming and he won't know, and p'raps he'll give Dolly the wrongmedicines with not knowing, and baby will get worser and worser. Oh,what _shall_ we do?"


  "_I_ know," said Mary, in a clear, decided voice, which made both herbrothers look at her in surprise. "We'll hide somewhere, so that we canjump out when the doctor passes and tell _him_. So then he must knowwhat to do for Dolly. Where shall we hide, Leigh?"

  Leigh stopped crying to consider.

  "Near the lodge would be best," he said. "The