Caroline, it appeared, had gone to her own family for the afternoon, and Julia, looking like a child in her short white dress and buckled slippers, was sitting in a low chair with little Anna in her arms.  The room was bright with firelight and the soft light from the subdued nursery lamps, and warm russet curtains shut out the dull and dying afternoon.  Dolls and blocks were scattered on the hearth rug, and Julia sat her daughter down among them, and jumped up with a radiant face to greet the newcomer.

“Aunt Sanna—­you darling!  And you’re going to spend the night?” Julia cried out joyfully, with her first kisses.  “What a dear thing for you to do!  But you’re wet?”

“No, I dropped everything in my room,” Miss Toland said.  “Things were very quiet at The Alexander—­that new woman isn’t going to do at all, by the way, too fussy—­so I suddenly thought of coming into town!”

“Oh, I’m so glad you did!” Julia exulted.  Miss Toland rested firm hands on her shoulders, and looked at her keenly.

“How goes it?”

“Oh, splendidly!” The younger woman’s bright eyes shone.

“No more blues, eh?”

“Oh, no!”

“Ah, well, that’s a good thing!” Miss Toland sat down by the fire, and stretched sturdy shoes to the blaze.  “Hello, Beautiful!” she said to the baby.

Julia dropped to the rug, and smothered the soft whiteness and fragrance of little Anna in a wild hug.

“She has her good days and her bad days,” said Julia, biting ecstatic little kisses from the top of the downy little head, “and to-day she has simply been an angel!  Wait—­see if she’ll do it!  See, Bunny,” Julia caught up a white woolly doll.  “Oh, see poor dolly—­Mother’s going to put her in the fire!”

“Da!” said Anna agitatedly, and Julia tumbled her in another mad embrace.

“Isn’t that darling, not six months old yet?” demanded the mother.  “Here, take her, Aunt Sanna, and see if you ever got hold of anything nicer than that!  Come, baby, give Aunt Sanna a little butterfly kiss!” And Julia swept the soft little face and unresponsive mouth across the older woman’s face before she deposited the baby in her lap.

“She’s like you, Julie,” Miss Toland said, extending a ringed finger for her namesake’s amusement.

“Yes, I think she is; every one says so.  You see her hair’s coming to be the same ashy yaller as mine.  And see the fat sweet little knees, and don’t miss our new slippers with wosettes on ’em!”

“She’s really exquisite,” Miss Toland said, kissing the tawny little crown as Julia had done, and watching the deep-lashed blue eyes that were so much absorbed by the rings.  “Watching her, Ju, we’ll see just what sort of a little girl you were.”

“Oh, heavens, Aunt Sanna,” Julia protested, with a rather sad little smile, “I was an awful little person with stringy hair, and colds in my nose, and no hankies!  I never had baths, and never had regular meal hours, or regular diet, for that matter!  Anna’ll be very different from what I was.”