"What is it, Madame?" asked Margaret.
"Oh, French point, child, and very beautiful."
"And this other must be—"
"It is new to me," cried Miss Wynne.
"Permit me," said the vicomtesse. "Venetian point, I think—quite priceless, Margaret, a wonder." She threw the fairy tissue about Pearl's head, smiling as she considered the effect.
"Is this my mother?" thought her son, with increase of wonder. He had seen her only with restricted means, and knew little of the more luxurious days and tastes of her youth.
"Does you remember this, missus?" said Nanny.
"A doll," cried Gainor, "and in Quaker dress! It will do for your children, Margaret."
"No, it is not a child's doll," said Mrs. Swanwick. "Friends in London sent it to Marie Wynne, Hugh's mother, for a pattern of the last Quaker fashions in London—a way they had. I had quite forgotten it."
"And very pretty, quite charming," said the vicomtesse.