“Give her to me,” said Flower, in a queer, changed voice. “I’ve altered my mind—I’d like to hold her. See, is she not friendly? Yes, baby, kiss me, baby, with your pretty mouth. Does she not coo—isn’t she perfect? You are quite right, Nurse. I do like to hold her, very much indeed.”
“I said she’d take to you, Miss,” said Nurse, in a gratified voice.
“So she does, and I take to her. Nurse, I wonder if you’d do something for me?”
“Of course I will, my dear.”
“I am so awfully hungry. Would you go down’ to the kitchen and choose a nice little dinner for me?”
“I’ll ring the bell, Miss Dalrymple. Alice shall bring it to you on a tray here, if you’ve a mind to eat it in the nursery.”
“But I do want you to choose something; do go yourself, and find something dainty. Do, Nursie, please Nursie. I want to be spoiled a little bit; no one ever spoils me now that my mamma is dead.”
“Bless the child!” said good-natured and unsuspicious Nurse. “Of course I’ll go, if you put it that way, Missy. Well, take care of baby, Miss Flower. Don’t attempt to carry her; hold her steady with your arm firm round her back. I’ll bring you your dinner in ten minutes at latest, Miss.”