“And yet you look so sad, Nancy! I am sure you need not be, for every one is so fond of you! And as for Uncle Peter, there is hardly anything he would not do for you. He always calls you his dear little new niece; he is quite as fond of you as if you were his real niece.”
“Is he—is he really?” said Nan. “Would he be as fond of me if he knew”——
“Knew what, Nan?”
“That I—— Oh Kitty! you know that I have no money, and you know that”——
“Now stop,” said Kitty. “If you do want to make me angry you will talk of that sort of thing again; it is very unfair of you after what mother said.”
“Oh, then, I won’t—I won’t!”
“If that is all that is worrying you, cheer up; Uncle Peter does not want sad faces.”
“And if—— Suppose—suppose I was not good at any time, would he hate me then?” asked the little girl.
“I am sure he would not. Once, do you know, I did such a naughty thing! I spilt a lot of ink on the carpet. I was a tiny child, and when Miss Roy came in—Miss Roy had not been with us more than a month, and I did not know how kind she would be—I said pussy had jumped on the table; and I had scarcely said it before Uncle Peter came in—he was staying in the house, you know. He sat down by the fire. It was wintertime, and he asked me to come and sit on his knee; and he put his arm round me, and I sat there so cosy, though I had a big, big ache in my heart. Miss Roy quite believed me about pussy, and she got the ink wiped up, and washed the carpet with milk, so that it should not show; and then she went out of the room, and I nestled up close to Uncle Peter. There was a big pain in my heart. Uncle Peter looked straight down at me.
“You see how the milk has taken out the ink; you can scarcely see it at all now,” he said; and then he raised my face and looked into my eyes, and he said, “Kitty, it was not worth while.”