What a habit you have of
misrepresenting me!"
The nurse appeared at this moment, carrying the heir of the Grangers,
gloriously arrayed in blue velvet, and looking fully conscious of his
magnificence.
"But I do like to have a drive with my pet-lamb, don't I, darling?" said
the mother, stooping to kiss the plump rosy cheek. And then there followed
some low confidential talk, in the fond baby language peculiar to young
mothers.
"I should have thought you would have been glad to get a morning alone, for
once in a way," remarked Sophia, coming over to the baby, and giving him
a stately kiss. She liked him tolerably well in her own way, and was not
angry with him for having come into the world to oust her from her proud
position as sole heiress to her father's wealth. The position had been very
pleasant to her, and she had not seen it slip away from her without many a
pang; but, however she might dislike Clarissa, she was not base enough to
hate her father's child. If she could have had the sole care and management
of him, physicked and dieted him after her own method, and developed the
budding powers of his infant mind by her favourite forcing system--made a
model villager of him, in short--she might have grown even to love him. But
these privileges being forbidden to her--her wisdom being set at naught,
and her counsel rejected--she could not help regarding Lovel Granger as
more or less an injury.
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