Elsie was introduced to them all, one after another.
Harold gave her a cordial shake of the hand, and a pleasant "Welcome to
Elmgrove," and the little ones put up their faces to be kissed.
Elsie thought Harold a kind, pleasant-looking boy, not at all like Arthur, Fred and May, dear little things, and the baby perfectly charming, as she afterwards confided to her father.
"May I take the baby, Miss Rose?" she asked coaxingly.
Miss Rose said "Yes," and the nurse put it in her arms for a moment.
"Dear, pretty little thing!" she exclaimed, kissing it softly. "How old is it, Miss Rose? and what is its name?"
"She is nearly a year old, and we call her Daisy."
"I'm sure your arms must be getting tired, miss, for she's quite heavy," remarked the nurse presently, taking the child again.
Miss Rose now said it was time to go down-stairs, and left the room, followed by Elsie, Harold, and Sophy, the last-named putting her arm around Elsie's waist, saying what a delightful time they would have together, and that she hoped she would stay all summer.
They had not quite reached the end of the hall when Elsie saw her father come out of the door of another room, and hastily releasing herself from Sophy's arm, she ran to him, and catching hold of his hand, looked up eagerly into his face, saying, "Oh, papa, do come into the nursery and see the dear little children and the baby! it is so pretty."