"Why, Gloria, how mean you are! She has seven brothers and sisters, and four of them are growing boys, with appetites! The butcher and baker claim just all she earns."
I opened the third yellow envelope, and was surprised to see a bill with: To Joseph Greenaway, Furniture Dealer, one child's mahogany cot £1 10s, upon it.
"Maura," I cried, "this is the climax. Why ever did you buy a baby's cot—and how came Mr. Greenaway to trust you? You are only a minor—an infant in law!"
"Oh, do stop," said Maura; "you're like Hermione or Rosalind, or—somebody—who put on a barrister's gown in the play——"
"Portia, I suppose you mean?"
"Yes, Portia. Mr. Greenaway let me have the cot because I once bought a little blue chair from him, for Selina's baby, for which I paid cash down."
It is impossible to describe the triumphant manner in which she uttered "cash down," it was as if she had said, I paid the national debt.
"Now," she proceeded, "I'll tell you why I bought it—I was one day passing a weaver's house in Revel Lane, when I saw a young woman crying bitterly but silently at the bottom of one of the long entries or passages. 'I fear you are in trouble' I said. 'Is any one ill?'
"She shook her head. She couldn't speak for a moment, then whispered:
"'Daisie's cot has followed the loom!'