Publisher's Synopsis
"And how is she to-day, Nan?" said the kindly voice of Mrs. Richmond. The time was early spring. The lady in question had come into a dark and somewhat dismal room; she herself was richly wrapped in furs and velvet; her large, smooth face was all beams and smiles. A dark little girl with thin cheeks, about eleven years of age, clasping a battered doll in her arms, looked full up at her. "She is no better," said Nan; "and I think perhaps it would be a good plan for you to go." "What a little monkey you are!" said Mrs. Richmond. "But I do not mind you, my dear Anna; I have known you too long. Come here, dear, and let me look at you." Nan laid her doll on the table and approached slowly. Her dress was untidy, her hair unkempt. There were traces of tears round her eyes, but none showed at that moment; the sad eyes looked bold and full and defiant into the kindly face of the lady. "You are not too tidy, my dear little girl; that pinafore would be the better for the wash-tub. And must you play with that horrid old doll?" "I would not give up dear Sophia Maria for anybody on earth," said Nan in a determined voice; and now she went back and clasped her ragged and disreputable-looking baby to her breast. "But you might have a new one." "I would not like a new one, thank you."
