is in this street? Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if
it's a shop or only a house.'

'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our
shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into
her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of
it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy--wouldn't mother be surprised
to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe
never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?--and Celestina
glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking
along in her usual rather depressed fashion--if so, French ma'amselles
were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer.

'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like
her better--she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She
was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very
much taken by beauty, and she had been rather, almost a little rude--at
least Celestina knew that _she_ would have been told she was rude had
she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and
natural--'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps
if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How _very_
funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And
have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought
a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and
teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a----
Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of
the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh,
Alie, _isn't_ it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her
house.'