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‘Please,’ she said now to the tall, powdered footman, ‘I know the lady what cried is here; please can I see her? I’ve brought her a little baby, and I want to see her about it.’

Flossy did not look quite like a common child, and her face wore a very sweet expression when she spoke of the baby; nevertheless the footman only stared at her, and would have certainly shut the door in her face, had not the lady of the house at that moment come into the hall. Flossy saw her, and quick as thought she darted past the servant and up to the lady.

‘Please, lady,’ she said, ‘I’ve often thought of you, and I’m so very sorry for you. Please, I’ve brought you another little baby instead of the one you put into the ground in the pretty place where the flowers and trees are. She’s a dear little baby, and when you have her you won’t cry no more.’

Flossy’s voice was very earnest, and her eyes looking up full into the lady’s face were full of the most intense sympathy. Those pretty eyes of hers were too much for the poor bereaved mother: she put her handkerchief to her own eyes, and there and then burst into fits of fresh weeping.

‘Come away, little girl, at once,’ said the indignant footman; but the lady put out one of her hands and took Flossy’s.

‘Leave the child with me,’ she said to the man. ‘I’ll be better in a moment, little girl,’ she continued, ‘and then you shall tell me what you mean; but you have upset me talking about babies: it is not long since I buried my child, my only child.’

‘I saw you,’ said Flossy, nodding her bright head. ‘I was in the cemetery and I saw you. Oh, didn’t you cry bitter! but you needn’t cry no more now, for God has sent you another little baby.’

‘No, my little girl,’ said the lady, ‘He has not. I have asked Him, but it is not His will.’

‘I guessed you’d want another baby,’ said Flossy. ‘I knew quite well you would, and she’s waiting for you round the corner with Peter and Snip-snap. You put on your bonnet and come and look at her; she’s a real beauty; she’s got a dimple, and her name is Dickory.’

‘I’ll come,’ said the lady in an excited voice. ‘It’s the very strangest thing I ever heard. A child coming to me like that. We’ll slip out, little girl. James need not open the door for us.’

Flossy wondered who James was.

‘Give me your hand, little girl,’ continued the lady. ‘And take me to the baby; I’ll look at her anyhow.’

Peter was standing in a very sulky attitude at the corner where the railings were. In his heart of hearts he was extremely anxious that Flossy’s mission should fail. It seemed to him that every bit of the niceness, all the interest would go out of his life if he hadn’t Dickory. In some ways he considered that Dickory was more to him than she was to Flossy. He wondered how Flossy could even talk of parting with her. He hoped sincerely she would fail in winning the lady’s pity.

But no, there they were both coming to meet him, the tall lady in deep black, and little eager wistful Flossy.

‘This is the lady what cried,’ she said to Peter. ‘She have come out to see our baby. Show her our baby, Peter.’

In solemn gloomy silence Peter unfolded a morsel of the tartan shawl which covered the baby’s face.

‘Let me have her in my arms, please,’ said the lady.

She took the baby tenderly, peeped once again at its small wee face, felt a sudden glow coming back into empty arms and more empty heart, and then turned again to the children.