Bessie cried quietly all the way home , and Tommy could not comfort her . He wished he had never shown her the doll in the window . From that day Bessie drooped , and Tommy watched her in agony . She grew paler and thinner . She was too tired to go out walking , and too tired to do the little household tasks she had delighted in . She never spoke about Roselle Geraldine , but Tommy knew she was fretting about her . Mrs. Knox could not think what ailed the child . `` She do n't take a bit of interest in nothing , '' she complained to Mrs. Puffer . `` She do n't eat enough for a bird . The doctor , he says there ai n't nothing the matter with her as he can find out , but she 's just pining away . '' Tommy heard this , and a queer , big lump came up in his throat . He had a horrible fear that he , Tommy Puffer , was going to cry . To prevent it he began to whistle loudly . But the whistle was a failure , very unlike the real Tommy-whistle . Bessie was sick -- and it was all his fault , Tommy believed . If he had never taken her to see that hateful , blue-silk doll , she would never have got so fond of it as to be breaking her heart because it was sold . `` If I was only rich , '' said Tommy miserably , `` I 'd buy her a cartload of dolls , all dressed in blue silk and all with brown eyes . But I ca n't do nothing . '' By this time Tommy had reached the paling in front of Miss Octavia 's lawn , and from force of habit he stopped to look over it . But there was not much to see this time , only the little green rows and circles in the brown , well-weeded beds , and the long curves of dahlia plants , which Miss Octavia had set out a few days before .
All the geraniums were carried XXXXX , and the blinds were down .
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