“Nelly Ho’dwor’t.”
His own name, thus lisped by her, thrilled through him; he caught his breath, and said:
“May I kiss you?”
She put up her mouth, and he kissed her.
“How pretty your hair is!” he murmured, in a voice of exquisite tenderness, which made Mrs. Parrot turn suddenly and look at him. He met her glance with a smile, and said:
“I am very fond of children. Will this little girl come and see me here sometimes?”
“Ay, that she will, sir. Won’t you, Nelly?”
“Det.”
“How old are you, Nelly?”
“Four.”