rocked in time to the tune.

Bye, oh, bye, little Jack-Sam, bye.
Bye, oh, bye, my baby,
When you wake, you shall have a cake--
And all the pretty little horses--

Her voice was low and pleasant, with queer, quavering minor cadences.
But Fiddle-dee-dee was not sleepy.

"'Tory," she begged, when the song was ended.

So Daisy told the story of the three bears. Fiddle was too young to
fully comprehend, but she liked the sound of Daisy's voice at the
climaxes, "Who's been sittin' in _my_ chair?" and "Who's been sleepin'
in _my_ bed?" and "Who's been eatin' _my_ soup?" Daisy was dramatic or
nothing, and she entered into the spirit of her tale. It was such an
exciting performance altogether that Fiddle was wider awake than ever
when the story was finished.

"'Ain' you evah gwine shut yo' eyes?"

"Daisy, sing," said Fiddle.

"I'se sung twel my th'oat's dry," said Daisy. And just then Mary came
in. "Isn't she asleep, Daisy?--I'll take her. Bannister's John is
downstairs and wants to see you."

"Well, I ain' wantin' to see him," Daisy tossed her head; "you jus'
take Miss Fiddle whilst I goes down and settles _him_. I ain' dressed
and I ain' ready, Miss Mary. You jes' look at them feet." She stuck
them out for inspection. Her shoes were out at the toes and down at
the heels. "This ain' my company night." As she went down-stairs, her
voice died away in a querulous murmur.

Mary, with her child in her arms, sat by the window and looked out upon
the quiet scene. There was faint rose in the sky, and a silver star.
But while she watched the rose faded.

Fiddle, warm and heavy in her arms, slept finally. Then Mary took off
her dress and donned a thin white kimono. She let down her hair and
braided it----

There was no light in the room, and her mother, coming up, asked
softly, "Are you there?"

"Yes."

"Fiddle asleep?"

"Yes, Mother."

Mrs. Flippin found her way to the window and sat down. "The nurse is
here, and a lot of clothes and things just came over for Miss MacVeigh
from Hamilton Hill. Mary, I wish you could see them."

"I shall in the morning, Mother."

"The nurse got her into a satin nightgown before I came up, with
nothing but straps for sleeves--but she looked like a Princess----"

"Aren't you tired to death, dear?"

Mrs. Flippin laughed. "Me? I like it. I am sorry to have Miss
MacVeigh hurt, but having her in the house with all those pretty things
and people coming and