"T'ank you, Auntie Vi'let; t'ank you, Auntie Em'ly--your lovely
pwesents."

"That's right, Angelina. I hope you'll use them sensibly. What's that
she's holding, nurse?"

"It's a doll Mr. Edward's sent her, mum."

"What a hideous creature! Edward might have chosen something---- Time for
her to go out, nurse, I think--now, while the sun's warm."

But she did not hear. She did not know that they had gone. She sat there
in a dreamy ecstasy rocking the red-cheeked creature in her arms,
seeing, with her black eyes, visions and the beauty of a thousand
worlds.


III

The name Rose was given to her. Rose had been kept, as a name, until
some one worthy should arrive.... "Wosie Bwaid," a very good name. Her
nakedness was clothed first in Rachel's bridesmaid's attire--alas! poor
Rachel!--but the lace and finery did not suit those flaming red cheeks
and beady black eyes. Rose was, there could be no question, a daughter
of the soil; good red blood ran through her stout veins. Tess of the
countryside, your laughing, chaffing, arms-akimbo dairymaid; no poor
white product of the over-civilised cities. Angelina felt that the satin
and lace were wrong; she tore them off, searched in the heaped-up
cupboard for poor neglected Annie No. 1, found her, tore from her her
red woollen skirt and white blouse, stretched them about Rose's portly