wiping her hands in her apron.

"My name is Hetty Gray," said the little girl, holding up her pretty
head adorned with a handsome hat and feathers.

"And don't you remember me, my darling?" said Mrs. Kane, extending her
arms; "me that used to nurse you and take care of you like my own! Oh,
don't go to say you forget all about your poor old mammy!"

Hetty hung her head. "I don't remember you at all," she said in a low
trembling voice. Her pride was stung to the quick at the thought that
she had belonged to this vulgar person.

"Well, well! you were only a baby, to be sure, when you were taken away
from me. But oh, my dear, I loved you like my own that went to heaven,
so I did. And my John, he loved you too. Come in here till I show you
the bed you used to sleep in; and always you would be happier if you had
a jugful of flowers on the window-sill to look at, falling asleep and
coming awake again in the morning. To think of it being full five years
ago, my pretty; and you turned into an elegant young lady in the time!"

"Did I really ever live here?" asked Hetty; "really ever sleep in that
bed?"

"That you did; and slept well and were happy," said Mrs. Kane, beginning
to feel hurt at the child's coldness. "Come now, have you never a kiss
to give to the poor old mammy that nursed you?"

Hetty held up her round sweet face, as fair and fresh as a damask rose,
to be kissed, and submitted to Mrs. Kane's caresses rather from