How well I remember the pleasant afternoon when I was raised in bed with pillows for the first time to enjoy a great tea-drinking with Charley! The little creature--sent into the world, surely, to minister to the weak and sick--was so happy, and so busy, and stopped so often in her preparations to lay her head upon my bosom, and fondle me, and cry with joyful tears she was so glad, she was so glad, that I was obliged to say, "Charley, if you go on in this way, I must lie down again, my darling, for I am weaker than I thought I was!" So Charley became as quiet as a mouse and took her bright face here and there across and across the two rooms, out of the shade into the divine sunshine, and out of the sunshine into the shade, while I watched her peacefully. When all her preparations were concluded and the pretty tea-table with its little delicacies to tempt me, and its white cloth, and its flowers, and everything so lovingly and beautifully arranged for me by Ada downstairs, was ready at the bedside, I felt sure I was steady enough to say something to Charley that was not new to my thoughts.
First I complimented Charley on the room, and indeed it was so fresh and airy, so spotless and neat, that I could scarce believe I had been lying there so long. This delighted Charley, and her face was brighter than before.
"Yet, Charley," said I, looking round, "I miss something, surely, that I am accustomed to?"
Poor little Charley looked round too and pretended to shake her head as if there were nothing absent.
"Are the pictures all as they used to be?" I asked her.

How well I remember the pleasant afternoon when I was raised in bed with pillows for the first time to take tea with Charley! The little creature was so happy, and so busy, and stopped so often in her preparations to lay her head upon my bosom, and cry with joyful tears, that I was obliged to say, "Charley, if you go on in this way, I must lie down again, my darling, for I am weaker than I thought!"
So Charley became as quiet as a mouse about her preparations. When the pretty tea-table with its tempting delicacies, and its white cloth, and its flowers, beautifully arranged for me by Ada downstairs, was ready at the bedside, I felt steady enough to say something to Charley that had been in my thoughts.
First I complimented Charley on the room, which was airy and neat. This delighted her.
"Yet, Charley," said I, looking round, "I miss something, surely?"
Poor little Charley looked round too and pretended to shake her head.
"Are the pictures all as they used to be?" I asked her.
