"Not so fast, uncle!" she returned, brightening. "I can be definite. May she spend two hundred dollars for this?"
"No."
"One hundred and fifty, then?"
"H'm! I don't know: we'll see about it when we get to New Orleans."
"Then I may tell her that she is to be allowed to buy presents for them?"
"Yes. Now, don't make me commit myself any further."
After this Mildred talked a great deal to the little girl about the children at Roselands, the games and romps she would have with them, what should be bought for them, and how pleased they would be with her gifts. Also of all she was likely to see on her journey that would be new and interesting: how nice it was that Mrs. Murray and mammy were to go with her; grandpa, too, and Cousin Milly; and that the dear Saviour and "her own sweet, pretty mamma," would be just as near her there in her new home as at Viamede.
It was thus she tried to tide the darling over the trial that awaited her in the sundering of the tender ties that bound her to the home of her early infancy.
Those were April days with the baby girl, from the time of Aunt Phillis's unfortunate revelation of what awaited her until the blow fell.