ewel!
My own, my own--I could eat thee!"

No, Mistress Muffel never behaved so to Elsie, her husband's babe.
Notwithstanding I knew right well that Cousin Maud had been just as fond
of me as Dame Stromer of her own babes, and so far our cousin was no way
different from a real mother. And I said as much to myself, when I laid
me down to sleep in my little white bed at night, and my cousin came and
folded her hands as I folded mine and, after we had said the prayers for
the Angelus together, as we did every evening, she laid her head by the
side of mine, and pressed my baby face to her own big face. I liked this
well enough, and I whispered in her ear: "Tell me, Cousin Maud, are you
not my real, true mother?"

And she hastily replied, "In my heart I am, most truly; and you are a
very lucky maid, my Margery, for instead of only one mother you have two:
me, here below, to care for you and foster you, and the other up among
the angels above, looking down on you and beseeching the all-gracious
Virgin who is so nigh to her, to keep your little heart pure, and to
preserve you from all ill; nay, perhaps she herself is wearing a glory
and a heavenly crown. Look at her face." And Cousin Maud held up the lamp
so that the light fell on a large picture. My eyes beheld the lovely
portrait in front of me, and meseemed it looked at me with a deep gaze
and stretched out loving arms to me. I sat up in my bed; the feelings
which filled my little heart overflowed my lips, and I said in a whisper:
"Oh, Cousin Maud! Surely my mammy might kiss me for once, and fondle me
as Mistress Stromer does her little Clare."

Cousin Maud set the lamp on the table, and without a word she lifted me
out of bed and held me up quite close to the face of the picture; and I
understood. My lips softly touched the red lips on the canvas; and, as I
was all the happier, I fancied that my mother in Heaven must be glad too.

Then my cousin sighed: "Well, well!" and murmured other words to herself;
she laid me in the bed again, tucked the coverlet tightly round me as I
loved to have it, gave me another kiss, waited till I had settled my head
on the pillow, and whispered: "Now go to sleep and dream of your sainted
mother."

She quitted the room; but she had left the lamp, and as soon as I was
alone I looked once more at the picture, which showed me my mother in
right goodly array. She had a rose on her breast, her golden fillet
looked like the crown of the Queen of