Lottle remembered that she had promised, but she preferred to lift up her voice.
“I haven’t any mamma,” she proclaimed. “I haven’t—a bit—of mamma.”
“Yes, you have,” said Sara, cheerfully. “Have you forgotten? Don’t you know that Sara is your mamma? Don’t you want Sara for your mamma?”
Lottie cuddled up to her with a consoled sniff.
“Come and sit in the window-seat with me,” Sara went on, “and I’ll whisper a story to you.”
Lottle remembered that she had promised, but she preferred to lift up her voice.
“I haven’t any mamma,” she proclaimed. “I haven’t—a bit—of mamma.”
“Yes, you have,” said Sara, cheerfully. “Have you forgotten? Don’t you know that Sara is your mamma? Don’t you want Sara for your mamma?”
Lottie cuddled up to her with a consoled sniff.
“Come and sit in the window-seat with me,” Sara went on, “and I’ll whisper a story to you.”
