babies, sin or no sin; I can't help what you think; I say it again, I
_do_ adore them. No, I ain't afraid of 'God's eternal anger' at all for
saying so; not a bit afraid. What does He make them so sweet for if He
does not expect us to love them dearly--His little angels on earth?
Whenever a baby passes here with its nurse, I run after it and stop it
and play with it as long as I can; and oh, I wish so often we had one of
our own here at home!" embracing myself again with enthusiasm.

"Evelyn is right; you are a very absurd child, Miriam," she said,
smiling, in spite of her efforts to keep grave; "very silly, even."

"And you are a very foolish, dear old nurse, and you _will_ love our
baby, too, won't you now?" clasping her also, zealously.

"Be still, child--here comes Charity. She will think you crazy to be
rumpling my cap in that way, and talking about such matters. You are
getting to be a perfect tomboy, Miriam! What would your papa say if he
could see you now, so dirty and disorderly--your papa, as neat as a pink
always?--Charity, what kept you so long to-day? Be quick and get Miss
Miriam's new cambric dress, and her blue sash, and her new, long, gray
kid gloves, and her leghorn hat, and white zephyr scarf. She is going to
drive out presently with her mamma and papa, and must look decent for
once in a while." After a pause she continued: "Miss Evelyn was dressed
an hour ago, and is ready at the gate now, with her leghorn flat on and
her parasol in her hand, I'll be bound," looking from the window. "There
comes Norman Stanbury home from school. That's the idea, is it?" and the
good nurse looked grave. "It will never do, it will never do in the
world," she said, as she glanced at them, then turned away, shaking her
head dolefully. "My child, my pretty piece of wax-work, must do better
than that comes to. Her blood must never mix with such as runs in the