"She don't know!" laughed Cynthia. "I don't believe she ever had hold of one before. Here, give it to me."

"No; let it stay," said Julia softly, and to the young mother's great satisfaction, for she seemed rather scared lest Cynthia should let it fall in tossing it up and down.

"She gets heavier every day, Miss, and Tom says it's wonderful now for a baby a month old."

"You must introduce us to your husband, Polly."

"Yes, Miss, I'll call him in. Or no, Miss, not this morning," said the young wife, rather hurriedly; "he is very busy."

"Some other time then," said Julia. "I suppose you are very fond of it, Polly?"

"Fond of it, Miss Julia? Oh, you can't think how I love it."

"No," said Julia, softly, and looking curiously at the young mother, "I suppose not."

"Oh, here is Budge," said little Mrs Morrison, as a heavy, stolid-looking girl entered the room. "She will take baby now, Miss.

There, Budge, take her in the kitchen, and don't go too near the fire."

"No, missus," said the girl, taking the well-wrapped-up baby in her red arms, staring heavily the while at the visitors, and consequently nearly bringing her charge to grief by stumbling over a stool.

"Oh, Budge!" cried little Mrs Morrison.

"I ain't hurt, missus," said the girl coolly, and she allowed herself to be piloted out of the room by her mistress, when a chair was heard to scroop.

"Oh, how funny it does seem!" cried Cynthia.

"Hush! don't talk like that," said her sister; "here she is."

Little Mrs Morrison came into the room again, looking very red-faced and hot.

"What a funny little maid you have got, Polly!" cried Cynthia.

"Yes, Miss Cynthia; she is from the workhouse, and she is a little clumsy, but she is very faithful, and so fond of baby."

"And what is to be its name?" cried Cynthia.

"Rose, Miss; and--and," stammered the young wife, looking very hard at Julia.

"And what, Polly?"

"I--I had a sort of idea, Miss Julia, that--"

"That what, Polly? Speak out!"

"Of asking you and Miss Cynthia if--"

"If what?"

"You wouldn't mind being little Rose's G.o.dmothers."

"Oh, no, Polly," said Julia, "I think not."

"Oh, yes, Ju, it would be good fun," cried Cynthia.

"I told Tom it would be too much to ask, Miss Julia; but he said you could only say _no_."

"Of course," said Julia, thoughtfully. "And he is very kind to you?"

"Oh, kind isn't the word, Miss Julia," cried the young wife.

"And are his relations kind to you too?"

"He has no relations, Miss, but one brother," replied Polly, "and he is a good deal of trouble to him--I mean to us," she added, correcting herself.

"Trouble to you, Polly?"

"Yes, Miss; he won't work, and he has taken to a gipsy sort of life, and goes poaching, I'm afraid."

"That's _very_, very sad," said Julia, remembering that her father had just been made chairman of the bench of magistrates.

"Yes, Miss, very, very sad, for we are always afraid of his getting into trouble; but there, you know, Miss, what brothers are."

"Yes, yes," said Julia, hastily. "I will think about what you said, Polly," she added, rising, and holding out her hand, "and if papa does not object, Cynthia and I will be G.o.dmothers to baby."

"Oh, if you would, Miss!" cried the young wife, flushing with pride; and then, in a low voice, as Cynthia went on out of the room, "You always were kind to me, Miss Julia, and more like a sister than a mistress.

May I kiss you, Miss?"

"Oh, yes, Polly," said Julia, kissing her smilingly.

"You always were kind to me, Miss, and there's nothing in life I wouldn't do for you if you wanted it."

"Come, Ju," cried Cynthia, from without.

"Oh, thank you, Polly, I know you would."

"And you'd come and ask me, Miss, if you wanted help, wouldn't you?"

"Indeed I would, Polly; but why do you ask me in that strange way?"

"Because--because, Miss, I want to ask a favour of you now," cried the young wife, desperately.

"What is it, Polly?" said Julia, showing deep interest now.

"Please, Miss, you--you remember when we were at Dinan."

"Yes, yes; what?" cried Julia.

"About Mr Cyril."