She tossed a bundle into Susan's arms, put a loaf on the table, and pointed Daisy to the rubbish heap outside the door; then frowning angrily at Susan, "Pretty extravagance! to make believe you are poor, and throw away what is worth more than all the gold on earth. Why didn't you make the child wear my gift?"
"She was homely enough, at first, without it," Susan answered; "and after she grew better looking, why should I waste my time looking up those old rusty spectacles, to make her a fright again?"
"You will have no such trouble with the other one." As the fairy spoke, a lovely little face peeped out from the bundle in Susan's arms. "Now, tell what I shall give her, with her name."
Susan had never seen such a beautiful child, and, poor as she was, felt grateful to the dame for this new gift; but she begged for leave to name the little one herself.
"I will call it Peterkin, after my husband. Ah, how the dear man would have loved it!" And Susan began to cry.
"Then her name will not match her face; if you want a Peterkin, I will bring you one instead of this; but her name must be Maud."
So Susan gave up the name for the sake of the child's good looks, and begged the dame to keep her always so beautiful, and to make her rich.
"That's easy enough; you should have asked me, Susan, to make her heart rich and beautiful. Yet rich she shall be; and no one in all the earth shall have so handsome a face. But, remember, it is on one condition I promise—that Maud and Daisy shall always live together, rich or poor; that they shall never spend a night apart, until Daisy goes to live with her father again."
Susan promised, and was thanking the dame with all her heart, though looking at the lovely little face that nestled in her bosom, when Daisy flew into the room.