The young mother, quite a rustic beauty, with a touch of refinement in her appearance, picked up during her stay on the Continent as maid to the rector's daughters, handed her plump little baby to the extended arms; watchfully, though, and as if afraid the treasure might be dropped upon the red-brick floor. "And how are you, Polly?" said Julia, looking rather searchingly at the young wife as she set chairs for her visitors. "I hope you are very happy?" "Oh, as happy, Miss Julia, as the day is long, and I'm so busy that the days are never long enough." "Cooey, cooey, cooey, cooey!" cried Cynthia to the baby in a very dove-like manner, as she kissed and fondled it, laughing merrily the while. "I was so surprised, Miss, to hear that you had come back to the rectory." "Not going to stop very long this time, Polly--I mean Mrs Morrison," said Cynthia, without raising her face from the baby. "We are going to town for the season. Oh, you, you, you funny little thing! There's a wet mouth. Oh, I say, Ju, I wonder whether I shall ever have a baby of my own." "Cynthia!" cried her sister, reproachfully. "It would be such fun. I say, Polly, is it good?" "Oh, there never was such a good baby, Miss, and Tom worships it. She's as good as gold." "She?" cried Cynthia. "Is it a she?" "Oh, yes, Miss," cried the young mother, proudly. "How funny!" said Cynthia. "It might be anything, it is so round and soft." "Would you mind feeling how heavy she grows, Miss Julia?" said the young mother and the baby was duly handed to Julia, who held it to her cheek, and then gazed lovingly at the little thing, her eyes wearing a curious wistful aspect, full of tenderness, while the young mothers face lit up with pleasure. "Isn't it heavy, Miss?" she said. "Wonderfully," replied Julia quietly, and with as much decision as if her life had been spent in the management of babies. "She don't know!" laughed Cynthia. "I don't believe she ever had hold of one before. Here, give it to me." "No; let it stay," said Julia softly, and to the young mother's great satisfaction, for she seemed rather scared lest Cynthia should let it fall in tossing it up and down. "She gets heavier every day, Miss, and Tom says it's wonderful now for a baby a month old." "You must introduce us to your husband, Polly." "Yes, Miss, I'll call him in. Or no, Miss, not this morning," said the young wife, rather hurriedly; "he is very busy." "Some other time then," said Julia. "I suppose you are very fond of it, Polly?" "Fond of it, Miss Julia? Oh, you can't think how I love it." "No," said Julia, softly, and looking curiously at the young mother, "I suppose not." "Oh, here is Budge," said little Mrs Morrison, as a heavy, stolid-looking girl entered the room. "She will take baby now, Miss. There, Budge, take her in the kitchen, and don't go too near the fire."