Nannette's little heart was nearly breaking with delight at the thought of having a real, live baby; and holding the bundle fast in her arms, where the woman had placed it, she began trudging up-stairs with it. Finally puffing and panting, her cheeks all aglow, she reached her little bed, and turning down the covers, she put in the bundle and covering it up carefully, she gave it some loving little pats, saying softly, "_My_ baby, my real, little live baby that will _cry_!" And then she carefully tripped out of the room and down-stairs again. Very soon Nannette's mother came home, bringing her a fine large apple, which drove all thoughts of the baby from her mind, and it was only when night came, and she was seated at the supper-table with her papa and mamma that she remembered her baby; but at that time, suddenly, from somewhere that surely was in the house, came a baby's cry; and clapping her hands, her eyes dancing with joy, Nannette began to slide down from her chair, saying with great emphasis, "That's _my_ baby." Her mother laughed. "_Your_ baby, Nannette?" "Yes, mamma, _my_ baby; don't you hear it _cry_? 'Tis _hungry!_" And she started to run up-stairs, but her mother called her back. "Why, Nannette, what ails you? What do you mean about _your_ baby?" she asked in surprise. "Why MY BABY, mamma! I bought it for a quarter of a dollar! a baby that _cries_--not a mis'ble make b'leve baby. Oh, how it _does_ cry! it must be _awful_ hungry!" And away she darted up the stairs. Her father and mother arose from their seats in perfect amazement, and followed their little girl to her room, where, lying upon her bed, was a bundle from which came a baby's cries. Nannette's mother began to unfasten the wrappings, and sure enough there was a wee little girl not more than two or three weeks old looking up at them with two great wet eyes. Of course Nannette was questioned, and she related all she could remember of her talk with the woman from whom she bought the baby. Her papa said perhaps the baby had been stolen, and that something had been given to it to make it sleep. "But what shall we do with it?" asked both the father and mother. "_Do_ with it?" cried Nannette. "Why, it is _my_ baby, mamma! I paid all my money for it. It _cries_, it does! I will keep it always." So it was decided, that the baby should stay, if nobody came to claim it, which nobody ever did, although Nannette's papa put an advertisement in a newspaper about it. It would take a larger book than this one in which to tell all of Nannette's experiences in taking care of "_my_ baby," as she called the little girl, whom she afterward named Victoria, in honor of the then young queen of England.