t means," said Dame Wheatfield, too glad to talk to check herself
on any account; "Not so much as a kiss for them, poor little darlings!
Folks say she does not let even Master Wayland kiss aught but her hands
for fear of her fine colours. A plague on such colours, I say."

"Poor little things!" whispered Aurelia.

"You'll be good to them, won't you miss?"

"Indeed I hope so! I am only just come from home, and they will be all I
have to care for here."

"Ay, you must be lonesome in this big place; but I'm right glad to have
seen you, miss; I can part with the little dear with a better heart, for
Mrs. Aylward don't care for children, and Jenny Bowles is a rough wench,
wrapped up in her own child, and won't be no good to the others. Go to
the lady, my precious," she added, trying to put the little girl into
her cousin's lap, but this was met with struggles, and vehement cries
of--

"No; stay with mammy!"

The little sister, who had not brought her nurse, was, however, well
contented to be lifted to Aurelia's knee, and returned her caresses.

"And have you not a name, my dear? We can't call you all missie."

"Fay," the child lisped; "Fayfiddly Wayland."

"Lawk-a-daisy!" and Mrs. Wheatfield fell back laughing. "I'll tell you
how it was, ma'am. When no one thought they would live an hour, Squire
Wayland he sent for parson and had 'em half baptised Faith, Hope, and
Charity. They says his own mother's was called Faith, and the other two
came natural after it, and would do as well to be buried by as aught. So
that's what she means by Fay, and this here is Miss Charity."

"She said something besides Faith."

"Well, when my lady got about again, they say if she was mad at their
coming all on a heap, she was madder still at their name. Bible wasn't
grand enough for her! I did hear tell that she throwed her slipper at
her husband's head, and was like to go into fits. So to content her he
came down, and took each one to Church, and had a fine London name of my
Lady's choosing tacked on in parson's register for them to go by; but
to my mind it ain't like their christened name. Mine here got called for
her share Amoretta."

"A little Love," cried Aurelia. "Oh, that is pretty. And what can your
name be, my dear little Fay? Will you tell me again?"

When repeated, it was plainly Fidelia, and it appeared that Hope had
been also called Letitia. As to age, Mrs. Wheatfield knew it was five
years last Michaelmas since the child