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'Who've come, father? I said. 'Little Timpey's father and mother; they are coming up the garden now with your grandfather! He had hardly finished speaking before my grandfather came in with a lady and gentleman. The lady ran forward as soon as she saw her child, put her arms round her, and held her tightly in her bosom, as if she could never part from her again.
Millar, for it was almost the first time that the child had spoken. 'She wants me to hold her little hand, I said, 'Timpey's little hand. Timpey must be her name! 'I never heard of such a name, said Mrs. Millar. 'Timpey, did you say? What do they call you, darling? she said to the child. But the little blue eyes were closing wearily, and very soon the child was asleep.
Villiers asked her, with tears in her eyes, 'Do you know me, little Timpey? My dear little Timpey, who am I? the child looked up, and smiled, as she said, 'Dear mother Timpey's dear mother! and she put up her little fat hand to stroke her mother's face. And then, when I saw that, I could feel no longer sorry that the child was going away. I can well remember what a happy morning that was.
Millar brought one of little Polly's nightgowns, and undressed and washed her, and put her to bed. The child was still very shy of all of them but me. She seemed to have taken to me from the first, and when she was put into her little bed she held out her tiny hand to me, and said, 'Handie, Timpey's handie. 'What does she say? bless her! said Mrs.
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