Sally gazed upon the sleeping girl in solemn wonder and admiration, and presently put forward one of her fingers and touched the rosy cheek--drawing it quickly back, as though it were a presumptuous thing to do. Again she stretched forth her hand, and played with the flaxen curls. Then, emboldened by success, Sally wetted her forefinger on her tongue, and rubbed it softly up and down over the roses in the sleeping child's face. That, when she looked at her finger after this operation, there was no red upon it, was evidently a puzzle to Sally. Her next proceeding was to take the sleeping child's plump hand in her bony one, and make an examination of the fat little fingers, separating them one by one, and curiously comparing them with her own. While thus employed Sally happened to glance up at the man, and, meeting his eyes, her arm stole round the sleeping child's neck. The next moment Sally was sitting on the floor, nursing the new little girl on her lap. Sally had had her dreams, as all children have--bright dreams of flowers, and gardens, and light, and colour, and beautiful shapes--of dolls with pink faces and spangled silk dresses--but never, in her wildest fancies, had she compassed the possession of such a lovely doll as this she now nursed in her lap. She had never seen anything so sweetly exquisite, and she sat in her thin night-dress, poor wan little elf, rocking her new treasure, and fondling it in purest delight. Mrs. Chester gazed at the children, and her tender heart began to bleed. That this strange child should be so beautiful, and rosy, and plump, and her child so forlorn-looking, and pale, and thin, smote her with keenest pain. "Get up from the cold floor, Sally!" she cried; "you'll catch your death setting there with nothing on!" Sally staggered to her feet, with the little stranger in her arms. "Mercy take the child!" cried Mrs. Chester, still more crossly. "You'll let her fall! Here, give her to me!" But Sally, heavy as her burden was, held her precious possession close to her, and managed to reach the bedroom door, where she stood still awhile. Mr. Chester brought affairs to some sort of a climax. He looked at the silver shilling and the few coppers upon the table, and his hand stole slowly towards them; but happening to look over his shoulder at Sally, he swiftly withdrew his hand, and left the money undisturbed. Then he turned abruptly to the stranger. "Now, then," said he, "what's _your_ name when you are at home?" "When I'm at home I'll tell you," replied the stranger. "Let's come to business. You've got a bedroom to let. What's the rent of it?" "Three shillings a week. Respectable references, of course?" inquired Mr. Chester, vaguely. "Stuff!" exclaimed the stranger, taking some silver pieces from his pocket. "Here's my reference." "Not a bad one," said Mr. Chester, "but I shall require two weeks in advance."