“‘Anna Drusilla Sterling?’ Well, I have one Anna already, so I shall call you Drusilla,” said the young man.
“But my mother calls me Anny.”
“Never mind what your mother calls you—I shall call you Drusilla. Well, little Drusilla, wouldn’t you like to go to the pantomime with us to-night?”
“I don’t know, sir. Please, what is it?”
“It is something got up to amuse little children like you, though big children like myself find it equally diverting. Wouldn’t you like to go? I should like to take you, and to see it through your great staring eyes, as well as through my own. It would be a ‘new sensation.’ Come, what do you say?”
“Thank you, sir. Is it pretty?”
“Beautiful!”
“And good!”
“It is heavenly!”
“Then I think I should like to go, sir, if mother will let me.”