Do you love honey, sweet?
And some chocolate, all in a little pink-and-gold cup which you shall have for your very own." "I want my mother!" Ellen cried out suddenly, with an exceedingly bitter and terrified and indignant cry.
"There, there, darling!" Cynthia whispered; "there is a beautiful red-and-green parrot down-stairs in a great cage that shines like gold, and you shall have him for your own, and he can talk.

You shall have him for your very own, sweetheart.

Oh, you darling! you darling!" Ellen felt herself overborne and conquered by this tide of love, which compelled like her mother's, though this woman was not her mother, and her revolt of loyalty was subdued for the time.

After all, whether we like it or not, love is somewhat of an impersonal quality to all children, and perhaps to their elders, and it may be in such wise that the goddess is evident.
She did not shrink from Cynthia any more then, but suffered her to lift her out of bed as if she were a baby and set her on a white fur rug, into which her feet sank, to her astonishment.

Her mother had only drawn-in rugs, which Ellen had watched her make.