"Here we are!" cried Rose, springing out. "Now, Katy, you mustn't even
take time to sit down before I show you the dearest baby that ever was
sent to this sinful earth. Here, let me take your bag; come straight
upstairs, and I will exhibit her to you."
They ran up accordingly, and Rose took Katy into a large sunny nursery,
where, tied with pink ribbon into a little basket-chair and watched over
by a pretty young nurse, sat a dear, fat, fair baby, so exactly like
Rose in miniature that no one could possibly have mistaken the
relationship. The baby began to laugh and coo as soon as it caught sight
of its gay little mother, and exhibited just such another dimple as
hers, in the middle of a pink cheek. Katy was enchanted.
"Oh, you darling!" she said. "Would she come to me, do you think, Rose?"
"Why, of course she shall," replied Rose, picking up the baby as if she
had been a pillow, and stuffing her into Katy's arms head first. "Now,
just look at her, and tell me if ever you saw anything so enchanting in
the whole course of your life before? Isn't she big? Isn't she
beautiful? Isn't she good? Just see her little hands and her hair! She
never cries except when it is clearly her duty to cry. See her turn her
head to look at me! Oh, you angel!" And seizing the long-suffering baby,
she smothered it with kisses. "I never, never, never did see anything so
sweet. Smell her, Katy! Doesn't she smell like heaven?"
Little Rose was indeed a delicious baby, all dimples and good-humor and
violet-powder, with a skin as soft as a lily's leaf, and a happy
capacity for allowing herself to be petted and cuddled without
remonstrance.
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