But the other girl looked at Merrylips, and she seemed ready to weep.
"Poor little lass!" she murmured.
Then up stood Lady Caversham, in her gown of silk tabby.
"Give that child unto me!" she said.
She came across the room and without asking leave of any one, took Merrylips out of Munn's arms.
Merrylips found herself sitting in Lady Caversham's lap, in a great chair by the hearth. The blaze of the fire winked and blurred through the tears that came fast to her eyes—why, she could not tell.
"Oh!" she said. "I'm glad Munn told you. I'm wearied o' being a boy. I'm a little girl—a girl!"
With that she dropped her head on Lady Caversham's kind breast and cried as in all her life she had never cried before.
When Merrylips next took note of what went on round her, the younger girl was kneeling by her and loosing the broken shoes from her feet. The older girl was hovering near with a cup of wine, and as for good Lady Caversham, in the pauses of soothing Merrylips as if she were a baby, she was scolding Munn. Munn looked puzzled, and Dick Fowell, who stood near him, had for once not a single word to say.
"Had you no wit at all?" said Lady Caversham to Munn. "Hush thee, precious child!" she spoke in quite a different tone to Merrylips. "To set this poor little tender maid in boy's dress and cast her among rude men! 'Tis all well now, poor little heart! Whilst you went about your riotous pleasures—"