"Yes, ma'am."

"Would you like to run about the garden?"

"No, thank you, ma'am; I will sit here and hold my doll. It is time
for her nap. I will hold her till she goes to sleep."

"Then you can run about a little," suggested Miss Camilla, gravely,
without a smile. She respected Lucina's doll, as she might have her
baby, and the child's heart leaped up with gratitude. An older soul
which needs not to make believe to re-enter childhood is a true
comrade for a child.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Lucina. "I will lay her down on the bench here
when she falls asleep."

"You can cover her up with my shawl," said Miss Camilla, gravely
still, and naturally. Indeed, to her a child with a doll was as much
a part and parcel of the natural order of things as a mother with an
infant. Outside all of it herself, she comprehended and admitted it
with the impartiality of an observer. "Then you can run in the
garden," she added, "and pick a bouquet if you wish. There is not
much in bloom now but the heart's-ease and the flowering almond and
the daffodils, but you can make a bouquet of them to take home to
your mother."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Lucina.

However, she was in no hurry to take advantage of her aunt's