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“No, ma’am, my little cousin,” answered Netty, whose distress had rendered her wonderfully sharp and indifferent to the many lies she was telling. “He’s my little cousin, ma’am, but I love him as if he were my own brother.”

“So I can see, and he seems a dear little fellow, but what pale cheeks! Do you give the poor baby enough to eat?”

The baby was smiling in that inconsequent and yet fascinating way which babies of a certain age adopt.

His lips were forming into pretty three-corners, and his eyes were blinking, and when he saw the bottle which Netty drew out of her pocket he stretched out his little arms with delight and cooed with satisfaction.

Soon several of the other children clustered round little Dan and began to fuss about him, and when they thrust sweets into his mouth he thought the fun excellent and crowed and laughed and flung his arms in the air.

“The sea will do him a sight of good, the darling,” said Netty, kissing him with rapture.

Soon afterwards they reached Southend, and then the real pleasure of the day began. Never as long as she lived could Netty forget that exciting and wonderful day–the happiness of running along those sands, of picking up those shells for herself, of sitting with Dan in her arms and letting the soft sea breezes blow over her face; then, as the waves came nearer and nearer, the darting away with little screams of frightened rapture. Oh! there never in all the world could be a second day like this! Then, too, the baby himself entered into the fun, and the best of the whole thing was that before the day was over the baby, the only baby in the whole party, began to assume the airs of a master, for all the children noticed him, and the ladies noticed him, and even the curates and the rector noticed him, and they all said: “What a pale-faced and yet what a sweet baby he is!”

And several offered to carry him, until Netty felt that he was quite a diadem in her crown, and a most honourable and distinguished appendage.

“See,” she whispered to Ben, in the height of her joy, “did you ever see anything like the fuss they’re making over our Dan? Wasn’t I right to bring him?”

“Oh! don’t bother,” cried Ben; “I’m going to play with some boys at the other side of the beach, and won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

Plenty of food was given to the happy children, and they returned home dead-tired, some of them half-asleep, but all with dreams of bliss which would remain in their hearts for many a long day.

Perhaps of all the children who went to that school feast there was no happier than Netty. She forgot her own wrong-doing in thinking of the delightful scenes she had so lately witnessed, and fell asleep that night holding the baby in her arms in a state of absolute bliss; but alas! clouds were already coming over her sky.

Early in the morning she awoke to find that Dan was hot and restless. Dan, although he had enjoyed himself vastly the day before, had not been treated judiciously. The many sweet-meats that the children had insisted on giving him had upset his baby digestion. He awoke peevish, heavy-eyed, and highly feverish. Netty, who idolised him, went straight to her Mother to ask her opinion with regard to him.

“He’s not well,” said Netty; “he’s not well a bit. I had best go at once and see the doctor, or take him round to the sixpenny dispensary.”

Mrs. Floss turned towards the bed where the baby lay, pulled down the clothes, and looked at him.

“There’s nothing the matter with the child,” she said. “Don’t you get fussing with your silly ways; the child’s all right.”

“He’s not, Mother. I am sure he ought to have medicine of some sort.”