Shelley herself to keep
it.
"It is the fairies' baby; they brought it, didn't they, mother? We will
always, always keep it, won't we?"
"I don't quite know yet, Jack; father says perhaps we shall have to send
it away," said Mrs. Shelley.
"It shan't go away. How dare father say so? He is a wicked man to want
to send it away," cried the boy, with flashing eyes and crimson cheeks.
"Jack, I am ashamed of you; you must not speak of your father in that
way; if he says it is to go away it must go, whether we like it or no."
Jack hung his head and hid his face on his mother's shoulder, while she,
remembering how indignant she had been with the shepherd for hinting at
sending it away the night before, stooped and kissed her boy's curly
head, and Jack raised his head again and renewed his attentions to the
baby.
"What a pretty little thing it is; see how it holds my finger. I think
it will love me, mother, though it is not my real sister. Oh! do make
father keep it, will you?"
For the first time since Mrs. Shelley had had the baby, she now
hesitated about keeping it; the boy had unconsciously struck a wrong
chord, and his mother, with a prophetic instinct, coupled with a quick
imagination, for a moment saw that it was possible this little stranger
who, as Jack had already grasped, was not his real sister, might, in
future years, destroy the harmony and peace of the home circle.
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