"Whoever's  child  it  may  be,"  said  Aunt  Annie,  "and
mind  I  don't  go  into  that,  it  is  not  a  child  of  common
parents."

IV

For  some  odd  reason,  Eliza  was  so  intensely  flattered
by  Aunt  Annie's  words,  that  she  felt  a  desire  to  hug
her.  None  knew  so  well  as  Eliza  that  it  was  not  a  child
of  common  parents,  but  it  was  not  the  way  of  this
expert  to  say  so.  The  wonderful  creature  was  "wrapt
in  mystery,"  but  the  hallmark  of  quality  must  have  been
stamped  very  deep  for  such  a  one  as  Aunt  Annie  to
commit  herself  to  any  such  statement.  Her  standard  was
princes  and  princesses.  Every  babe  in  Christendom  was
judged  thereby,  and  there  was  perhaps  one  in  a  million
that  could  hope  to  survive  the  test.
A  miracle  had  happened,  but  it  was  really  too  much  to
expect  that  the  cradle  would  have  a  share  in  it.  Aunt
Annie  shook  her  head  over  the  cradle.  It  had  too  many
fal-lals.  She  approved  neither  its  curtains  nor  its  air  of
grandeur.  She  was  a  believer  in  plainness  and  sim-
plicity. If  before  incurring  an  unwarrantable  expense,
her  niece  had  only  mentioned  the  matter,  the  great  lady

42


AUNT  ANNIE  AND  AUNTY  HARRIET

would  have  gone  to  Armitt's  personally  and  have
arranged  for  a  replica  of  the  hygienic  but  unpretentious
design  supplied  by  that  famous  firm  to  the  Nursery  over
which  she  had  presided.
Eliza,  however,  could  accept  no  responsibility  for  the
cradle.  Harriet  had  sent  it  that  morning  quite  unex-
pectedly. Aunt  Annie  was  a  little  surprised  that  the
taste  of  Bridport  House  in  cradles  was  not  a  little  surer.
