At first, Milly saw nothing of all this, except as a part of the beautiful picture. She only saw the kind eyes, and the welcoming smile.
"You must be my granddaughter too, my dear, and give me a kiss," she said, taking the child's hand and patting it softly. "Say, will you be my little girl as Emily is?"
Milly's face expressed great emotion. It was a very tell-tale face. Now it looked pleased and penitent, and astonished by turns. At last, trying to wink back a tear which the loving words brought to her eyes, she answered softly:
"I'm not good enough. Emily can tell you what a bad girl I am; and when everybody is so kind, too."
"Indeed, Emily has told me nothing of the kind. She says you're her own darling cousin,—that she loves you dearly,—and that you are trying so hard to be good."
"Yes, I do try sometimes. I mean, when I think of it. But I'm not nice and clean like Emily. Aunty has a great deal of trouble with me, though my bed looks real smooth to-day, and all my clothes are hung up."
"That is very cheering. Emily tells me you wish to go back to India. It will be very pleasant to your father to have a neat, thorough housekeeper."
Milly's face crimsoned. "Not till I'm grown up," she exclaimed eagerly. "I can't leave Emily for a good while yet."
"I suppose the Hindoos are not very neat."
"Oh, no! I never thought about it till I came here; but the bungalows are awfully dirty. The people have to bathe in the water tanks made for them. That is one of their laws; but they are filthy after all."