“Who gave you that doll?”
“Mamma.”
“You will bring dolly to see me, and we will have tea, all three of us. What have I got here? A bright shilling! That will buy dolly a parasol!”
No words can describe the tone his voice took as he spoke.
“What do you say to the gentleman for this beautiful present?” cried Mrs. Parrot.
“Tanks,” said the child, putting the doll on the floor to examine the money with both hands.
“Oh, here comes your mamma!” said Mrs. Parrot. “Make your reverence to the gentleman ... there’s a dear; pick up dolly ... that’s right.”
She took Nelly’s hand and ran with her out of the room.
The mother, standing at her gate on the other side of the road, looking up and down the road, caught sight of Mrs. Parrot and the child, and crossed over to them.
They remained opposite Holdsworth’s window talking, while he, shrinking against the wall, peered at them through the muslin curtain.