“My pet,” said her mother, “are you pleased with your presents, and are you having a happy day?” Mary put up her little hand and stroked her mother’s forehead, on which some little curls of pretty brown were falling.
“Mamma dear,” she said, “your hair isn’t very tidy. Shall I call Larkin to brush it smoove?” and she began to scramble off the bed to go to fetch the maid.
“What a little fidget you are,” said her mother. “Never mind about my hair. I want you to tell me what you think of your little sister.”
“I think her sweet,” said Mary. “And her curls is somefin like yours, mamma. But Leigh says hers like little ducks, and Artie says hers like a pink monkey.”
Mamma began to laugh at this, quite loud. But just then the nurse put her head in at the door.
“Baby’s opening her eyes so wide, Miss Mary,” she said. “Do come and look at her, and you, Master Leigh and Master Artie too. You shall come and see your mamma again in the afternoon.”
So they all three went back into the other room to have another look at baby.
“I say, children,” called their father after them. “We’ve got to fix what baby’s to be called. It’ll take a lot of thinking about, so you must set your wits to work, and tell me to-morrow what name you like best.”