In the middle of this apartment was a
large tub; in the tub a chubby child sat, sucking a sponge and
staring calmly at the new-comer with a pair of big blue eyes, while
little drops shone in the yellow curls and on the rosy shoulders.
"How pretty!" cried Christie, seeing nothing else and stopping short
to admire this innocent little Venus rising from the sea.
"So she is! Ma's darlin' lamb! and ketehin' her death a cold this
blessed minnit. Set right down, my dear, and tuck your wet feet into
the oven. I'll have a dish o' tea for you in less 'n no time; and
while it's drawin' I'll clap Victory Adelaide into her bed."
Christie sank into a shabby but most hospitable old chair, dropped
her bonnet on the floor, put her feet in the oven, and, leaning
back, watched Mrs. Wilkins wipe the baby as if she had come for that
especial purpose. As Rachel predicted, she found herself, at home at
once, and presently was startled to hear a laugh from her own lips
when several children in red and yellow flannel night-gowns darted
like meteors across the open doorway of an adjoining room, with
whoops and howls, bursts of laughter, and antics of all sorts.
How pleasant it was; that plain room, with no ornaments but the
happy faces, no elegance, but cleanliness, no wealth, but
hospitality and lots of love.
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