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The door of the front bedroom was closed as if on a mystery. He knocked and opened it tentatively, like a man who respected mysteries. The voice had left off singing, and was saying something. It was a voice he knew, but not Violet's voice. It was saying, with a lilt that was almost a song, "Upsy daisy, upsy daisy, den!" There was a pause and then "Diddums!" and a sound of kissing.
"Hold on tight round my neck, and you shall rest while I take you home. So! That's a brave boy! Upsy, now! there you are! Now put your head on my shoulder close! and hold on!" Ah! how Maine blessed the heavy little brother at home, who would ride on his sister's back, long after mamma said he was too big.
'That's pretty evident, returned the other. 'Now, get her shawl round her head whilst I hold her up. That'll do. We must get her down to the surgery. Take her by her shoulders; there. Get your arms well under her. Heave ho! Wait a minute till I settle her dress and get a good hold of her knees. Upsy daisy; march!
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