back, please. Demi would miss me, and I love to be here, Aunty.”
“You can’t get on without your Demi, can you?” and Aunt Jo
looked as if she quite understood the love of the little girl for her
only brother.
“‘Course I can’t; we’re twins, and so we love each other more than
other people,” answered Daisy, with a brightening face, for she
considered being a twin one of the highest honors she could ever
receive.
“Now, what will you do with your little self while I fly around?”
asked Mrs. Bhaer, who was whisking piles of linen into a
wardrobe with great rapidity.
“I don’t know, I’m tired of dolls and things; I wish you’d make up a
new play for me, Aunty Jo,” said Daisy, swinging listlessly on the
door.
“I shall have to think of a brand new one, and it will take me some
time; so suppose you go down and see what Asia has got for your
lunch,” suggested Mrs. Bhaer, thinking that would be a good way
in which to dispose of the little hindrance for a time.
“Yes, I think I’d like that, if she isn’t cross,” and Daisy slowly
departed to the kitchen, where Asia, the black cook, reigned
undisturbed.
In five minutes, Daisy was back again, with a wide-awake face, a
bit of dough in her hand and a dab of flour on her little nose.
“Oh aunty! Please could I go and make gingersnaps and things?
Asia isn’t cross, and she says I may, and it would be such fun,
please do,” cried Daisy, all in one breath.
“Just the thing, go and welcome, make what you like, and stay as
long as you please,” answered Mrs. Bhaer, much relieved, for
sometimes the one little girl was harder to amuse than the dozen
boys.
Daisy ran off, and while she worked, Aunt Jo racked her brain for
a new play. All of a sudden she seemed to have an idea, for she
smiled to herself, slammed the doors of the wardrobe, and walked
briskly away, saying, “I’ll do it, if it’s a possible thing!”
What it was no one found out that day, but Aunt Jo’s eyes twinkled
so when she told Daisy she had thought of a new play, and was
going to buy it, that Daisy was much excited and asked questions
all the way into town, without getting answers that told her
anything. She was left at home to play with the new baby, and
delight her mother’s eyes, while Aunt Jo went off shopping. When
she came back with all sorts of queer parcels in corners of the
carry-all, Daisy was so full of curiosity that she wanted to go back
to Plumfield at once. But her aunt would not be hurried, and made
a long call in mamma’s room, sitting on the floor with baby in her
lap, making Mrs. Brooke laugh at the pranks of the boys, and all
sorts of droll nonsense.
How her aunt told the secret Daisy could not imagine, but her
mother evidently knew it, for she said, as she tied on the little
bonnet and kissed the rosy little face inside, “Be a good child, my
Daisy, and learn the nice new play aunty has got for you. It’s a
most useful and interesting one, and it is very kind of her to play it
with you, because she does not like it very well herself.”
This last speech made the two ladies laugh heartily, and increased
Daisy’s bewilderment. As they drove away something rattled in the
back of the carriage.
“What’s that?” asked Daisy, pricking up her ears.
“The new play,” answered Mrs. Jo, solemnly.
“What is it made of?” cried Daisy.
“Iron, tin, wood, brass, sugar, salt, coal, and a hundred other
things.”
“How strange! What color is it?”
“All sorts of colors.”
“Is it large?”
“Part of it is, and a part isn’t.”
“Did I ever see one?”
“Ever so many, but never one so nice as this.”
“Oh! what can it be? I can’t wait. When shall I see it?” and Daisy
bounced up and down with impatience.
“To-morrow morning, after lessons.”
“Is it for the boys, too?”