r she had made him the
prettiest little penny purse you ever saw, knitted in bright-coloured
silk, so that now he was very well off, indeed, with his "scented" purse
for his gold and silver, and Lisa's one for pennies and halfpennies, and
his money-box to store up the rest in when the purses were full. He had
all his presents set out in a row, so that he could see them while he
was eating, and just when he was at nearly the last spoonful, he was
quite startled by a voice beside him, saying, "And what about _my_
present, Baby, dear? Did you think I had forgotten your birthday?"

It was auntie. She had come in so quietly that Herr Baby had not heard
her. She leant over his chair, and he put his arms round her neck and
kissed her.

"Him is so happy, auntie dear," he said; "him has such lots of p'esents,
him never thought about your p'esent."

"Didn't you, dear?" said auntie, smiling. "Well, _I_ didn't forget
it--indeed, I thought of it a long time ago, as you will see. Come with
me, for I see you have finished your breakfast."

Auntie took him by the hand. Baby wondered where she was going to, and
he was rather surprised when she led him to his own room--that is to
say, to the pretty nursery where he and Denny had their two little white
beds side by side.

"Look up, Baby," said auntie.

And looking up, what do you think he saw? On the wall, at the side of
his own little bed, where his eyes could see it the first thing in the
morning, and the last at night, hung the picture of the blue-eyed little
girl, the dear little girl of long ago, with her sweet rosy face, and
queer old-fashioned white frock, smiling down at him, with the sort of
wise, loving look, just as she had smiled down at him in the old shop at
Santino.

"Oh, auntie, auntie!" cried Baby. But then he seemed as if he could say
no more. He just stared up at the sweet little face, clasping his hands,
as if he was _too_ pleased to speak. Then, at last, he turned to auntie
and _hugged_ her.

"Oh, auntie!" he said again. "Oh, him _is_ so p'eased to have him's own
pitty little girl always smiling at him. Him will _always_ have her,
won't him, auntie?"

"I hope so, dear. She is your very own."

"Him will keep her till him is _kite_ old. Him will show her to him's
children and him's g'anchildren, won't him?" went on Baby solemnly.

"I hope so, dear," said auntie again, smiling at his flushed little
face.

"Her _is_ so pitty," said Baby. "Her is as sweet a