and soap were next put in requisition, and as soon as the baby awoke, she was submitted to such an operation by the kitchen fire, as it would appear she had not experienced for a long time.  The little creature was terribly frightened when soused in the water, and screeched in a pitiful manner; the tears running from her eyes, and the whole of her small person being in a violent tremor.  The maids, however, made a thorough job of it, and scoured the foundling from head to foot.  At length Mrs. Margaret, who sat by, directing the storm, with a sheet across her lap and towels in her hand, pronounced the ablution as being complete, and the babe was lifted from the tub, held a moment to drip, and then set on the lap of the lady, and now the babe seemed to find instant relief.  The little creature was no sooner placed on Mrs. Margaret’s knee, than, by some strange and unknown association, she seemed to think that she had found an old friend,—­some faintly remembered nurse or mother,—­whom she had met again in Mrs. Dymock, and quivering with delight, she sprang on her feet on the lady’s lap, and grasped her neck in her arms, pressing her little ruby lips upon her cheek; and on one of the maids approaching again with some of her clothes, she strained her arms more closely round Mrs. Margaret, and perfectly danced on her lap with terror lest she should be taken away from her.

“Lord help the innocent babe!” said the old lady, “what is come to her?” and Mrs. Margaret’s eyes were full of tears; but the good lady then soothed and carressed the babe, and instructed her to sit down on her knees, whilst she directed the servant to assist in dressing her.  But no, no, it would not do; no one was to touch her but Mrs. Margaret; and the old lady, drawing herself up, at length said,—­“Well, Janet, we must give way, I suppose; it seems that I am to be the favourite; there is something in my physiognomy which has taken the child’s fancy; come, hand me the clothes, I must try my skill in dressing this capricious little dame.”  Mrs. Margaret was evidently pleased by the poor orphan’s preference, and whilst she was dressing the infant, there was time to discover that the little child was a perfect beauty in her way; the form of her face being oval, the features exquisite, the eyes soft, yet sparkling, and the lips delicately formed.  The hair, of raven black, was clustered and curling, and the head set on the shoulders in a way worthy of the daughters of kings; but the servants pointed out on the arm of the infant, a peculiar mark which was not natural, but which had evidently been burnt therein.  One said it was a fan, and another a feather; but Mrs. Margaret augured vast things from it, pronouncing that the child surely belonged to some great person, and that no one could say what might be the consequence of kindness shown to such a child.

As soon as Mr. Dymock came down into the breakfast-room, Mrs. Margaret came swimming in with the child in her arms, exclaiming, “A pretty piece of work you have done for me, nephew!  I am under a fine servitude now;” and she primmed up her mouth, but her eye laughed,—­“little Miss here, chooses to be waited on by me, and me only; and here I am, with nothing to do but to attend on my lady.”