"Mary is my nurse," said the child, and her uncle laughingly added:
"A person with antipathy to me, Miss Glenalvan. You should cultivate her. She must be a rara avis."
"Do you suppose that all women admire your sex, sir?" retorted the young lady, spiritedly, and they left the room exchanging lively badinage, while Mrs. Desmond looked inside the other door for Golden.
She saw her sitting quietly, her sweet face bent over some sewing, no trace apparent of the heartache she was silently enduring.
"Mary, you may come to your charge now," she said with so much more than her usual kindness of tone that Golden's delicate lip quivered. Mrs. Desmond had been pleased to hear that Ruby's beautiful nurse disliked men and was not willing to remain in the room with one.
She laid aside her sewing and went in to Ruby. Mrs. Desmond bent to kiss her pet, and said, fondly:
"Shall I stay and bathe your head, love?"
"No, mamma, I would rather have Mary," she replied.
"I shall be jealous of Mary. You are so fond of her," the mother rejoined as she left the room.
Golden put the dolls away and bathed the brow of the little sufferer until she fell into a deep and quiet sleep.