While the baker's wife was drawing forth the biscuits, Goldie entered into conversation with the little girl. "So you're going to have a treat for once in a way, Nelly Viner. You don't trouble Mrs. Winter often for sweet biscuits, I should say." "My new brother is coming home to-day," replied the child with a beaming look of pleasure. "Your new brother! Who's he?" "I do not exactly know, sir; but he is some one that we are to love, and be kind to. I shall be so glad to have a brother!" "I should have thought," said Goldie in a careless manner, "that Viner had enough to do to look after his own without adopting the children of other people. Do you know who this boy is, Mrs. Winter?" "I know that his name is Walter Binning; the son, I suppose, of some friend." "A friend! Never were you more mistaken in your life. Why, that's the name of the man who almost ruined Viner—a heartless, unprincipled—" Mrs. Winter glanced at the little girl, and put her finger on her lips. She placed the biscuits before Nelly, but Nelly lingered. "Are those not what you wished?" said the baker's wife, noticing the child's look of hesitation. "Yes; but you have given me seven, and I have only paid for six," replied the little one, looking artlessly up in her face. "Now, if that isn't like her father!" exclaimed Goldie, bursting into a loud laugh. "I could have known her for his child all the world over! Don't you know, little simpleton, that seven are better than six?" "I thought that Mrs. Winter had made a mistake," replied the child, not liking the laugh, though she could not have told why. "I think that it's you who made the mistake," said Goldie, laughing again. "Tell me, does not your father keep sugar plums as well as cabbages?" "Yes," replied Nelly, "and very nice ones." "Very nice; oh! I dare say that you know that pretty well. How many do you eat, my little maid?" "Father gives me a brandy-ball every Sunday, or sometimes a piece of pink rock," said Nelly, smiling. "Oh! That's what he gives, but what do you take?" asked the fruiterer, chucking her under the chin. "I take what he gives. I don't know what you mean," said the little girl, looking bewildered. "Simpleton!" muttered Goldie, glancing with a knowing smile at Mrs. Winter, but Mrs. Winter did not return the smile. "You never help yourself?" he continued to Nelly. "Never manage to taste a sugar-plum when father's back is turned?" The child's face flushed crimson, she shrank back from his touch, looked full into his face with her open blue eyes, and seemed to feel it unnecessary to say "No!" "Nelly is brought up in the fear of God," observed Mrs. Winter, "and knows that it would be better to touch live coals than anything dishonestly gained. Go home with your seven biscuits, my good little girl, and make ready to welcome your new brother."