"You ask her, please, cook," whispered the child again.
So cook turned to the children, and asked them what were their names.
"He's Tim, ma'am," said the little girl, pointing at the boy, standing shyly with his finger in his mouth; "and I'm Angel."
"Oh, cook!" whispered little Ellie, "please, please let me see her wings. Are they tucked up under her shawl? Oh, please do let me see them!"
But the cook did nothing but laugh.
"However did you come by such an outlandish name?" she said, turning to little Angel.
"Please, ma'am, it's Angel for short," said the child.
"And what is it for long?"
"It's Angelina, please, ma'am, for long. My mother read it in a penny number before she was married; and Angelina lived in a palace, please, ma'am, and had gold shoes and a carriage with six horses, my mother said."
"Well, to be sure!" said cook. "And so she gave you that heathenish name, when you haven't got gold shoes, nor a carriage, nor six horses. Well, to be sure!"