Papa said the child ought to be sent to a hospital, and he thought that
if that were done she could be cured. Mamma said that she thought so
too; but that someone had been talking to little Ellen, and frightened
her so that she cried whenever the hospital was talked of, and her
mother would not send her unless she felt willing to go.

Then mamma spoke of how lonely it must be for the little girl there in
the house by herself all the day, while her mother was out at work, with
so little to amuse her.

"Mamma," said Teddy, "why can't little Ellen have some of my books to
amuse her--some I had when I was sick? Because, you know, I'm well now,
and don't need them any more."

"That's a very good idea," said mamma, looking pleased. "You may choose
the ones you will give her, and perhaps papa will leave them with her
when he goes out for a walk this afternoon."

"Well," cried Teddy, eagerly, "I think I'll give her the Ali Baba book
and Robinson Crusoe, and I think, maybe, I'll give her Little Golden
Locks too."

Mamma brought the books, and they tied them up in a neat package, and
just as they finished there was a little rattle of china outside the
door, and in came Hannah with Teddy's luncheon, and a great yellow
orange that Aunt Pauline had sent him.

After luncheon mamma made Teddy lie down for a while to rest. The
Venetian shutters were drawn, so that all the room was dimly green, and
then mamma and papa went out and left him alone.