Little Flora's father gave her a small china doll on her fourth
birthday. It was only a little one, but Flora's father said that his
little girl was very small too, and he thought she could not carry a
big doll yet. When Flora was five years old her father gave her a
larger one, and when she was six her father presented her with a
beautiful baby doll in long clothes, that was almost as tall as Baby
Henry, her brother, in the nursery. Nurse even said the dollie's long
gowns would fit Baby if they were only wider, for, of course, Baby
Henry was much heavier and fatter than Dollie, though Dollie was
almost as tall. Now came the question of a name. Nurse said that in
the last house where she lived the little girl had had a doll called
Lady Sarah Maria, but Flora said she was not going to call her doll by
that name, because the funny old lady who lived opposite was Miss
Sarah Maria Higginson, and her doll was far too pretty to be like that
old lady. Miss Higginson had once looked very angrily at Flora when
her ball had happened to bounce over the wall into her precious
flower-garden, so Flora did not like her. Perhaps the old lady did not
like Flora for spoiling her flowers! Well, at last, after much
thinking, the doll had a name given to it. It was called Lady Emily
Mary Julia Gwendoline. Nurse thought it was too long, but Flora
reminded her that Emily was after her eldest sister, Mary after the
parlour-maid, whom Flora liked very much, Julia after Flora's Aunt
Julia, and Gwendoline after Flora's little sister; so that her doll
was like them all in something, of course, or she would not have given
her so many names. She had Emily's blue eyes, and Mary's pink cheeks,
and Aunt Julia's sweet smile, and Gwendoline's pretty light hair.
"And, Nurse, I do think she has fingers like yours, rather stumpy at
the ends!" exclaimed Flora, after a pause.
"No, no!" cried Nurse. "I won't have her called Ruth after me, that I
won't; and you're a very rude little girl Miss Flora!"
So Flora contented herself with four names, and wrote them in her
copy-book lest she should forget them. After a while she grew tired of
calling her doll by four names, and changed them all to Daisy, for
short, she said; though Nurse said that Daisy was the short name for
Margaret, and not for Emily.
Lady Daisy went out for many a long walk in the tender arms of her
little mother. Flora hardly ever let her out of her sight, except
while she went to dinner and breakfast. At tea-time Lady Daisy always
sat on a chair by her little mother, and was quite content to look at
her bread and honey without wanting any of it.
The doll led a very happy life till one day when the whole family set
off to the seaside, and then her misfortunes began. Flora thought that
she was as careful as ever of her dear Lady Daisy, but I am afraid she
had grown a little tired of looking after her as much as before. At
first she had carefully kept her out of Baby Henry's reach, because he
pulled about everything till it was torn or spoiled; and also Snip,
the terrier, had such a way of worrying anything that he was never
allowed to go near Lady Daisy's cradle. Therefore, when the whole
party set off for the seaside the doll was as fresh and beautiful as
at first. But, alas, a change came! Little Flora was so excited about
going to the seaside, that after she had put her favourite on the
cushion of the railway carriage she forgot all about her in the
delight of looking out of the window. When they at last came to a
large station where the train was going to stop for ten minutes, half
the party got out of the carriage to go and have some tea in the
refreshment rooms. Little Flora begged to be allowed to go too; and
though her mother meant her to stay with Nurse, Charlie, and Baby in
the carriage, she let her come as a great treat for once in a way. So
Flora jumped out in the highest spirits, and quite forgot Lady Daisy
in her hurry.
Nurse put Baby Henry on the cushion, as she wanted to untie the basket
that held a bottle of milk and some biscuits. While she was busy doing
this Baby Henry looked about him. He soon spied Lady Daisy sitting
bolt upright against the cushions, staring with her blue eyes at
Charlie. He stretched out his little hand and took her by the arm.
Charlie looked up at this moment and saw him do it, and though Charlie
was only a little boy himself he felt he ought to look after Baby
Henry.
"Give Dollie to me, Baby," he said sharply. "You're not to have her,
bad boy!"
But Baby only clasped Lady Daisy tighter by the arm.
Charlie stretched out his hand and caught hold of Dollie by the hair
and tried to pull her away from Baby. Charlie pulled and Baby pulled.
They pulled and pulled, till poor Lady Daisy's hair came off in
Charlie's hand and her arm broke off in Baby's hand, and then she
tumbled right down on to the floor!
"Oh, Nurse, see how naughty Baby has been!" cried Charlie.
Nurse turned round, and when she saw the mischief that they had both
done she gave Charlie a good shaking that made him cry, and scolded
Baby Henry well till he roared out loudly.
"Now, stop that noise, you bad children!" said Nurse angrily. "I can't
do anything for a minute but directly my back is turned you behave as
bad as bad can be. And now, what Miss Flora will say when she comes
back I don't know. I think I had better hide away Dollie till we get
to the seaside, and then we can get her mended, and trust to Miss
Flora forgetting all about her till then."
So Nurse picked up the bits of arm and all the small pieces of yellow
hair, and stuffed them all together, with Lady Daisy, under the
cushion of the railway carriage; and then she looked out of the window
and said, "Here they all come back again. Ah, Master Charlie, you may
well look ashamed!"
Charlie was very much frightened at what he and Baby had done; but,
of course, he thought it was all Baby's fault, being like so many
people who prefer to put the blame on others, instead of bravely
bearing a share of it themselves. He did so hope Nurse wouldn't tell.
I think he ought to have told himself; don't you? But he did not. Just
then Flora came running up to the carriage door with a huge Bath bun
in her hand.
"Oh, Charlie, it's so nice out here!" she cried; "and I've had a lot
of refreshment. And, oh, I've bought you a big bun with my own money!"
Charlie was just putting out his hand for the bun when his conscience
pricked him, and told him he hardly deserved to take Flora's gift
after what had happened.
He suddenly withdrew his hand and said, "I'm not hungry, Flo, thank
you."
"Oh, but do take it!" cried Flora. "It cost twopence."
Charlie put out his hand slowly and took the bun; but it tasted heavy
to him, as he was not happy. Soon the rest of the party were settled
back in their former seats, and the engine steamed on again. And poor
Lady Daisy was quite forgotten! One by one the children dropped off to
sleep, and only once did little Flora murmur her doll's name in her
dreams. At last they came to the end of their journey, and everyone
had to bustle out so quickly. Nurse had to carry the sleepy children
into the waiting-room whilst the luggage was being got out, and in
five minutes the engine gave a puff and a shriek and the train rolled
on somewhere else, with Lady Daisy crushed under one of the cushions
of a carriage. Nurse had quite forgotten her!
Poor thing, she hardly deserved such a fate! I think we must follow
her on her journey, for somebody must look after her. Well, at the
next station an old gentleman got into that very carriage, and he sat
down at the end by the window and began to curl himself up comfortably
in the corner. But somehow something prevented him. He thought the
cushion edged up-hill very oddly, and the seat seemed very hard. So he
threw off his travelling rug again, in which he had wrapped himself,
and stood up to search, thinking it might be crackers or squibs or
something horrid. When he pulled up the seat and found poor Lady Daisy
he was very angry.
"I'll speak to the guard!" he muttered to himself, while he held the
battered, crushed doll at arm's length. "Some wretched child has left
this here for I don't know how long, and they never take the trouble
to settle the cushions properly, these railway people. Lazy set!"
By which remark he did the hard-working railway people a great
injustice, so I am glad there was no one in the carriage to hear.
He threw the doll roughly down on the opposite side, and composed
himself once more to rest. When people are angry they are very often
unjust. _We_ know--you and I--that it was not the guard's fault nor
the porter's fault that poor Lady Daisy disturbed the rest of this
grumbling old gentleman. _We_ know that she had only been left in that
carriage ten minutes by herself. However, at the next station the
guard was called to the door and shown the poor battered doll, and
angrily asked why the cushions were not made smooth before the train
started on its journey?
The guard said he was sorry for any discomfort the gentleman might
have had, but explained that he remembered a party of children had
only just got out at the last station, so he was sure they must have
left it there. In the meantime he would take "Miss Doll," as he
called her, into his own van; and he lifted her up, and picked up the
broken arm and all the yellow hair and rolled them into a big bundle,
and went off to his part of the train.
"It'll do for my little Polly," thought the guard to himself.
All this while what was Flora doing? Hard-hearted little girl, she was
thinking how hungry she was as they rolled along the streets in a cab
to their lodgings. When the family were all seated at tea, and Flora
was busy with a plateful of bread and jam, Nurse suddenly came into
the room looking rather sad, and she whispered something to Flora's
mother. Flora heard some of the words. They were, "Break it to her,
please, ma'am; I'm afraid."
All at once, like a flash, Flora remembered Lady Daisy. She darted up
from her chair, crying out, "Oh, Nurse, where _is_ my doll? I've left
her in the train! Oh, Mother, please send to the station and ask them
for her! Oh, Mother, how could Nurse forget her? Nurse, Nurse, are you
sure you haven't got her? I heard you say you were afraid! I know
you've left her behind!" And thus Flora ran on--now accusing Nurse,
now mourning the loss of her doll, now asking her mother to send for
her--till her mother drew her calmly to herself, and said, "Flora,
dear, do not blame Nurse for forgetting your doll when she had a
hundred other things to think of. If you forgot her, don't accuse
others of it. I am afraid my little girl forgot her Lady Daisy for
many hours, too, in the train. Nurse tells me you left your dollie all
alone when you got out of the train at B---- Station, and that Charlie
and Baby Henry got hold of her, and pulled her very much about, so
that she had to put the poor broken thing under the seat lest you
should see it, and it would grieve you. She meant to act kindly to
you, and it was hardly her fault if, when we got out, she should
forget Lady Daisy was still there, since Lady Daisy's own mistress, my
little Flora, never missed her at all; was it?"
Flora hung her head. "No, Mother," she whispered. "But I _did_ love
her."
"Then my little girl must be more thoughtful," said her mother; "and I
am afraid, as the train has gone on a long way, that Lady Daisy must
have gone too, so she won't be at the station. But think of this:
perhaps some other little girl may find her, and take care of her, and
love her too."
At which Flora burst into a flood of tears, and it took a long time
for her to get over the idea that Lady Daisy was lost for ever!
They stayed at the seaside for six weeks, and one day Nurse packed up
all their things and said they were going home again. Flora watched
her fastening all the boxes and bags. She had a sorrowful look on her
face. Even now she had not forgotten Lady Daisy.
"Nurse, I've nothing to carry in my hands _this_ time," she said, and
then turned away to look out of the window. She did not try to blame
anyone else now for her forgetfulness of her poor Lady Daisy. She saw
it was her own fault having left her, alone and forgotten, so long
that day when they first came to the sea.
When they got to the station they had to cross over to the other side
of the railway. There was a train just coming up, and they waited till
it should go by. However, it was going to stop there altogether, and
the guard got out and was walking towards them, when suddenly Nurse
recognized his face as being that of the same man who had been with
them in the train when they came down to the sea. She remembered faces
very well, and as she was still sorry for poor Flora, she ran up to
him, and said hastily:
"Please, sir, did you happen to find a doll in your train some six
weeks ago? My little lady's doll, that was!"
The guard stood still with a puzzled face for a moment, then suddenly
a smile lit up his face, and he answered quite briskly:
"Oh! are _you_ the party as got out of my train about that time and
left a doll under the seat?"
"Yes, sure enough!" exclaimed Nurse.
"Ah! I see _'twas_ you now!" replied the guard. "You know where it
was; and there is the little missy, too, whom I remembers lifting out
dead-asleep in my arms that day. Yes, yes. I found it right enough;
not but what it were a bit crushed through an old party sitting on it
at the next station; but, bless you, I took it home all right, and
give it to my poor Poll in hospital. Not afore I'd mended it, though.
I'm a good hand at carpentering, though sticking on the yellow hair
was a bit of a puzzle." And he laughed loud.
Flora had ran up to her nurse at this moment.
"Dollie's found," said Nurse, quickly turning round to her.
"Did you find her, please, guard?" inquired Flora rather shyly.
"Yes, missy; and if I'd known where you lived I'd have fetched her
back to you. As it is, my Poll's had a lot of fun out of her; but you
shall have her back--you shall have her back."
As Flora's mother just then came out of the ticket-office and joined
the group, she heard the whole history. The end of it was that she
gave the guard sixpence to send Lady Daisy back by parcel post, as he
declared he wouldn't let his Polly keep her a day longer, no, "not if
the lady wished it ever so." I think he had seen Flora's sorrowful
face turn quite joyful when he had mentioned Lady Daisy.
"And, Mother," whispered Flora, "if he so kindly sends dear Daisy
back, will you take my four-and-sixpence out of my money-box and buy
Polly another great big doll instead. You see, it won't matter to
_her_ losing Daisy as it mattered to me, and if I buy her another doll
she will be just as happy; don't you think so? You see, she didn't
have her _always_, as I did."
And so it was settled; and when poor little Poll in the hospital with
the broken leg one day received a lovely new doll by the post, she
said wonderingly to her father:
"I can't think, Father, why that little lady liked that battered old
thing instead of keeping this here lovely new one!"
But you and I know why. We all like our old favourites best, don't we?
And so Lady Daisy came back after all safe and sound to her first
home at the Grange, and you may be sure Flora never lost sight of her
again.