"Since he is safe with Fanny, I may venture to walk where I like. It
's such a lovely day, all the babies will be out, and it always does
me good to see them," thought Polly, turning into the wide, sunny
street, where West End-dom promenaded at that hour.
The babies were out in full force, looking as gay and delicate and
sweet as the snow-drops, hyacinths, and daffodils on the banks
whence the snow had melted. But somehow the babies did n't do
Polly the good she expected, though they smiled at her from their
carriages, and kissed their chubby hands as she passed them, for
Polly had the sort of face that babies love. One tiny creature in
blue plush was casting despairing glances after a very small lord of
creation who was walking away with a toddling belle in white,
while a second young gentleman in gorgeous purple gaiters was
endeavoring to console the deserted damsel.
"Take hold of Master Charley's hand, Miss Mamie, and walk
pretty, like Willy and Flossy," said the maid.
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