Milly's errand : $b or, Saved to save — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Milly's errand : $b or, Saved to save
John Stuart Mill · en
"She ain't a baby now," hastily interrupted Bob. "Mother said a short
time ago she thought she must be going on six years. It's four years
ago I picked her up and brought her here."
"Ah, yes, I remember; and now you're going to bring her here again;
that's right, that's right. I'd like to see this baby; bring her now."
And the doctor made an impatient gesture for Bob to go at once.
Bob would much rather have seen the housekeeper than Dr. Mansfield,
for it was generally believed in the village that he was insane, and
he felt somewhat nervous at the thought of leaving Milly in that
large rambling old house with a madman. But the doctor had spoken so
imperatively, that he knew not how to disobey him, for he feared that
if he did so, the doctor would himself come and carry her off.
This fear at last prevailed over every other feeling. But inwardly
hoping that the housekeeper might return before he got back to the
house, he went to Milly, telling her she was going to see the lady that
had sent her all her new frocks.
To his very great disappointment, almost consternation, he heard that
the housekeeper had not come back.
But Dr. Mansfield, who had been waiting his return, stepped out of an
adjoining room and looked at Milly. Long and earnestly did he gaze into
her upturned face, and Milly as steadfastly regarded him.
"Little girl, will you come to me?" he said at length, in a voice
faltering with emotion.
For answer, she held out her arms, and put up her lips to be kissed.
The doctor caught her, murmuring, "So like, so like that other!"
He took no further notice of Bob, but carried the little girl back with
him into the room.
And when the housekeeper returned, an hour or two afterwards, she
found, to her great annoyance, that Milly was making herself quite at
home among the quaint odd playthings the doctor had given her.
Her first resolution was that Milly should not stay there long, but
in this she had reckoned without her host. Dr. Mansfield would not
hear of the child being sent away, and his attachment to her seemed to
grow every day. She was his constant companion; and although he often
appeared to be silently looking at her in moody indifference, her very
presence seemed to afford him so much relief from his own more gloomy
thoughts, that he could not bear to have her out of his sight very long.
"Wait a bit, things won't last like this always," said the housekeeper.
"Master will be glad to get rid of the little plague by and by."
And the time when this was expected came very soon. Dr. Mansfield shut
himself up in his room, and forbade any one to disturb him.
Milly's first inquiry, on coming down stairs in the morning and seeing
his place empty, was for him. When told he was in his room, though
bidden to remain, she was turning to go to him, but was caught, and
with sundry slaps laid upon her arms and shoulders, brought back to her
breakfast.