For Peter's wife introduced her to the baby, and as it was
really rather a nice baby--much cleaner than one could have expected to
find one of its species on a canal boat--the little girl soon found it a
most interesting object of study. She had seldom seen little babies, and
her pride was great when its mother proposed to her to hold it on her
own knee, and even allowed her to pull off its socks to count for
herself its ten little round rosy buttons of toes. The toes proved too
much for Duke, who had hitherto stood rather apart, considering himself,
as a boy, beyond the attractions of dolls and babies. But when Tim
even--great grown-up, twelve years old Tim--knelt down to admire the
tiny feet at Pamela's call, Duke condescended to count the toes one by
one for himself, and to say what a pity it was Toby was not here--baby
could ride so nicely on Toby's back, couldn't she? This idea, expressed
with the greatest gravity, set Peter and his wife off laughing, and all
five, or six if baby is to be included, were soon the best friends in
the world.
"How nice it is here," said Pamela; "I'm not frightened now, Tim; only I
wish Diana could have come. It's so much nicer than in the waggon. You
don't think Mick will find out where us is, do you, Tim?" and a little
shudder passed through her.
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