"So 'tis!" said Mickey. "But since you arrived to such bettered conditions, you got to be a lady of fashion. Now Peaches, every single kid in the Park is named _two_ names, these days. Fellow can't have a foot race for falling over Mary Elizabeths, and Louisa Ellens. I can't do so much just to start on, 'cause I can't earn the boodle; fast as I get it, you're going to line up; but nachally, just at starting you must begin on the things that are not expensive. Now names don't cost anything, so I can be giving you six if I like, and you are a lily, so right now I'm naming you Lily, but two's the style; keep your Peaches, if it suits you. Lily just flies out of my mouth when I look at you." This was wonderful. No cursing! No beating! No wailing over a lame-back brat to feed. Mickey _liked_ to give her breakfast! Mickey named her for the wonderful flower like granny had picked up before a church one day, a few weeks ago and in a rare sober moment had carried to her. Mickey had made her feel clean, so rested, and so fresh she wanted to roll over the bed. With child impulse she put up her arms. Mickey stooped to them. "You goin' to have two names too," she said. "You gotter be fash'nable. I ist love you for everythin', washin', an' breakfast, an' the bed, an' winder, an' off the floor; oh I just love you _sick_ for the winder, an' off the floor. You going to be"--she paused in a deep study to think of a word anywhere nearly adequate, then ended in a burst that was her best emanation--"lovest! Mickey-lovest!" She hugged him closely, then lifted her chin and pursed her lips. Mickey pulled back, a dull colour in his face. "Now nix on the mushing!" he said. "I'll stand for a hug once a day, but nix on the smear!" "You'd let a dog," she whimpered. "I ain't kissed nothin' since granny sold the doll a lady gave me the time we went to the doctor's, an' took the money to get drunk on, an' beat me more'n I needed for a change, 'cause I cried for it. I think you might!" "Aw well, go on then, if you're going to bawl," said Mickey, "but put it there!" He stepped as far back as he could, leaned over, and swept the hair from his forehead, which he brought in range of her lips. He had to brace himself to keep from flinching at their cold touch and straightened in relief. "Now that's over!" he said briskly. "I'll wash you, and get your breakfast." "You do a lot of washin', don't you?" inquired Peaches. "You want the sleep out of your eyes," coaxed Mickey. He brought the basin and a cloth, washing the child's face and hands gently as was in his power. "Flowersy-girl," he said, "if you'd looked last night like you do this morning, I'd never tackled getting you here in the world. I'd thought you'd break sure."