Mrs. Sterling, having finished her morning’s work, was putting off her working gown of brown alpacca to put on a nice dress of black silk in honor of Christmas Eve, when old Mrs. Lyon came in to give the instructions about the dinner, and having given them, immediately left the room.
The housekeeper was in no plight to go all the way down to the kitchen, so she sent the child to tell the cook to come up to her for orders.
The little one went and delivered her message faithfully; and was returning to her mother’s room, when, in passing through the back hall, she suddenly met the god of her infant idolatry face to face. She knew him at once, either by instinct or because there was no other young man beside Mr. Richard (whom she knew by sight) in the house. She backed up into a corner to let him pass.
“Heyday! Who have we here? A child in the house? I haven’t seen such a thing here for years! Or are you a fairy changling?” inquired Mr. Alexander, in surprise.
The child did not reply, but—I am sorry to say—put her finger in her mouth, dropped her chin and rolled up her eyes in a shy glance at the splendid youth.
“Ah bah! that’s very nasty! Don’t stick your finger in your mouth and stare, but hold up your head and answer when you are spoken to. Tell me who you are, little girl!” said Mr. Alexander.
Prince Solomon had condescended to issue orders and they were immediately obeyed by his loyal subject. Down went the little finger; up went the little face, and she answered:
“I am Mrs. Sterling’s little girl.”
“And a very nice little girl, too, to do as you are bid. Always do so, do you hear?”
“Yes sir.”