“She has her father’s blue eyes and fair hair,” said the happy young mother, smiling at Clara’s emphasis, which rendered every other word not only into italics, but, in some cases, even into capitals.
“Oh, she is the most charming little ducks o’ diamonds I ever beheld in my life! Such a beautiful skin, just like white satin!” reiterated the duchess, punctuating her remarks by a series of short, sharp little kisses, that made sweet Erminie open her large blue eyes in subdued wonder. “Oh, Maude! I don’t wonder you are so saintly, with this little beautiful seraph ever with you! Sweet little angel Erminie! thou almost persuadest me to be a Christian!”
There was a soft tap at the door, and the nurse, who had hitherto remained in the back-ground, and listened with professional stoicism to these raptures, went and opened it; and Lord Villiers entered.
He started in some surprise, as he beheld how the room was tenanted, and then advanced with a smile. Lady Maude, with more than the adoring love of two years before, went over, and, laying her hand on his shoulder, said:
“Clara wanted to see Erminie before we descended to the drawing-room, dearest Ernest, and has fallen even more deeply in love with her than she has with the Turkish ambassador, the fortunate possessor of the interestingly melancholy dark eyes.”
Lord Villiers smiled, and looked, with eyes full of love, on sweet Erminie, who sprung up, crowing gleefully, and crying, “Papa!”
“Wait one moment, till I see. Why, she’s the very picture of your lordship! Keep still, little girl, till I compare you with your papa. There’s the same large, blue, Saxon eyes; the same fair, curling hair; the same high, princely forehead; the same handsome mouth (no harm to compliment a married man—eh, Maude); the same long, aristocratic, white fingers—your very image, my lord!”
“I had rather she looked like Maude,” said the young husband, encircling his wife’s small waist fondly with his arm.
“Well, so she does when she smiles. Don’t you perceive the resemblance now? Miss Erminie, will you be still? What a restless little creature it is.”
“Papa, papa, tate Minnie,” crowed that small individual, holding out her little arms, and looking pathetic and imploring.