She went upstairs to her bedroom, unlocked her wardrobe, and took out the doll, which was clad in blue silk, and reposed in a dog-trough lined with the same material.

Honoria had recklessly cut up two handkerchiefs (for underclothing) and her Sunday sash, and had made the garments in secret.

They were prodigies of bad needlework.

With the face of a Medea she stripped the poor thing, took it in her arms as if to kiss it, but checked herself sternly.

She descended to the terrace with the doll in one hand and its original calico smock in the other.
"There, take your twopenny baby!" Lizzie caught and strained it to her breast; covered its poor nakedness hurriedly, and hugged it again with passionate kisses.
"You silly! Did you come all this way by yourself ?" Lizzie nodded.