"Why, what is the matter?" cried kind little Clover, taking Amy in her
arms, and giving her a great hug. "Aren't you glad that you are coming
to make us a visit? We are."

"Mamma didn't kiss me for good-by," sobbed the little girl. "She didn't
come downstairs at all. She just put her head out of the window and
said, 'Good-by; Amy, be very good, and don't make Miss Carr any
trouble,' and then she went away. I never went anywhere before without
kissing mamma for good-by."

"Mamma was afraid to kiss you for fear she might give you the fever,"
explained Katy, taking her turn as a comforter. "It wasn't because she
forgot. She felt worse about it than you did, I imagine. You know the
thing she cares most for is that you shall not be ill as your cousin
Walter is. She would rather do anything than have that happen. As soon
as he gets well she will kiss you dozens of times, see if she doesn't.
Meanwhile, she says in this note that you must write her a little letter
every day, and she will hang a basket by a string out of the window, and
you and I will go and drop the letters into the basket, and stand by the
gate and see her pull it up. That will be funny, won't it? We will play
that you are my little girl, and that you have a real mamma and a
make-believe mamma."

"Shall I sleep with you?" demanded Amy,

"Yes, in that bed over there."

"It's a pretty bed," pronounced Amy after examining it gravely for a
moment. "Will you tell me a story every morning?"