As for poor Tiza, a long sleep had cheered her up greatly, and when Milly and Olly went to take her out with them after breakfast, they found her almost as merry and chatty as usual.  But she didn’t like being kept at the Wheelers’s, though they were very kind to her; and it was all Mrs. Wheeler could do to prevent her from slipping up to the farm unknown to anybody.

“They don’t have porridge for breakfast,” said Tiza, tossing her head, when she and Milly were out together.  “Mother always gives us porridge.  And I won’t sit next Charlie.  He’s always dirtying hisself.  He stickied hisself just all over this morning with treacle.  Mother would have given him a clout.”

However, on the whole, she was as good as such a wild creature could be, and the children and she had some capital times together.  Wheeler the gardener let them gather strawberries and currants for making jam, a delightful piece of work, which helped to keep Tiza out of mischief and make her contented with staying away from home more than anything else.  At last, after three days, the doctor said she might come home if she would promise to be quiet in the house.  So one bright evening Tiza slipped into the farmhouse and squeezed in after her mother to the little room where Becky was lying, a white-faced feverish little creature, low down among the pillows.

“Becky,” said Tiza, sitting down beside her sister, as if nothing had happened, “here’s some strawberries.  Wheeler gave me some.  You can have some if you want.”

“Just one,” said Becky, in her weak shaky voice, smiling at her; and Tiza knelt on the bed and stuffed one softly into her mouth.

“You’ll have to nurse baby now, Tiza,” said Becky presently; “he’s been under mother’s feet terrible.  Mind you don’t let him eat nasty things.  He’ll get at the coals if you don’t mind him.”

“I’ll not let him,” said Tiza shortly, setting to work on her own strawberries.

All this didn’t sound very affectionate; but I think all the same Tiza did love Becky, and I believe she tried to do her best in her own funny way while Becky was ill.  Baby screamed a good deal certainly when she nursed him, and it was quite impossible of course for Tiza to keep out of mischief altogether for two or three weeks.  Still, on the whole, she was a help to her mother; while as for Becky she was never quite happy when Tiza was out of the house.  Becky, like Milly, had a way of loving everybody about her, and next to her mother she loved Tiza best of anybody.

After all, the children were able to say good-bye to Becky.  Just the day before they were to go away Mr. Backhouse came down to say that Becky would like to see them very much if they could come, and the doctor said they might.

So up they went; Milly a good deal excited, and Olly very curious to see what Becky would look like.  Mr. Backhouse took them in, and they found Becky lying comfortably on a little bed, with a patchwork counterpane, and her shoulders and arms covered up in a red flannel dressing-gown that Aunt Emma had sent her.