Mrs. Brooke, apart from her really kind intentions towards her sister's orphan daughter, was determined that Lucy, who was to be Stella's constant companion, should not, by shabby or old-fashioned dress, disgrace the family in the eyes of her critical fashionable associates; so it was determined, without reference to Lucy, that Ada and Sophy should take her out forthwith on a shopping excursion, to provide her with what Mrs. Brooke considered essential for her creditable appearance as a member of her family. After her first uncomfortable feeling had worn off, Lucy really enjoyed her expedition, everything--the busy streets, the crowded buildings, the rattling carts and carriages; above all, the gaily-decorated shop windows--having so much of the charm of novelty for a country girl. The windows of the print-shops and book-stores in particular she thought so attractive, that she wondered how the hurrying passers-by could go on their way without even a glance at their treasures. The shopping was easily accomplished under Ada's experienced superintendence, and might have been accomplished much more quickly, Lucy thought, had it not been that her cousins would spend so much time in looking over articles which they had no intention of buying, thereby, she thought, putting the obliging shopmen to an immense deal of trouble, and sadly wasting their own morning. But neither of her companions had much sense of the value of time, having no higher aim in living than that of passing it as pleasantly as possible. At last the important business was concluded, just in time for them to get home for lunch. Lucy felt very tired after her unwonted expedition over the hard city streets, with their bewildering noise and confusion, and was glad to get away as soon as possible to rest. She soon fell asleep, and when she awoke she found Amy sitting quietly beside her, playing with her doll. "Won't you look at my doll, Cousin Lucy?" she said. "I got her on my birthday. Her name is Lucy, after _you_." "After _me_?" said Lucy, surprised. "Did you call her after me before I came?" "Yes," replied Amy timidly; "for Stella said you were nice, and I should love you." "I hope you will, dear," said Lucy, touched and gratified, and she kissed her little cousin affectionately, looking pityingly at the pale, delicate face and fragile form. She had always wished to have a little sister of her own, and her heart was quite disposed to take the little girl into a sister's place. She drew her closer, and after talking a little about the doll, she said: "Does Amy love the good, kind Saviour, who came to die for her?" The child looked up with a puzzled expression. "Jesus, you know," added Lucy, thinking that name might be more familiar. "That is Jesus that my hymn is about. Nurse taught me, 'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.'" "Yes. Well, don't you love Him, Amy? He loves you very much." "Does He love me?" asked Amy. "How do you know?" "Because He says so."