The child stared solemnly without moving a muscle.
"Come, my dear, and speak to your grandmother."
Mrs. Gano advanced with majesty till she was arrested by a low growl from the St. Bernard.
"Don't be afraid of us," urged Aunt Valeria, somewhat superfluously. "I've brought you a pretty toy in my trunk. Come, darling."
The child kept a suspicious eye on the ingratiating stranger.
"She has very pretty hair," pursued Aunt Valeria, amiably.
"She hasn't pretty manners," retorted Mrs. Gano.
"Oh, she's shy. Don't be afraid of us"—she ventured a step nearer. "Come here, my sweet little one."
Never taking her eyes off her gentle aunt, the sweet little one said, with a charming childish lisp: