The Serpent's Tooth by B.M. Croker

For more than a fortnight, every morning and every afternoon, Cara's mother and nurse foregathered by appointment: sometimes at the band on the Leas, sometimes along the shady Lower Road; and here Letty would wheel the perambulator. Her admiration for the child was mutual, and she was terrified, lest the nurse should wonder why the little thing was always so ready to come to her, and why she invariably called her ‘Mamma.'

"I am sure, you must be like her mother," said Smithson, "and that is why little Cara takes to you. Aye, and they do say, that she was wrapped up in her. Mr. Blagdon, he don't care a brass farthing about the child, and was main angry, that miss Cara wasn't a boy. He never comes to Sharsley, and the place was that dreary, the old nurse give notice -- _she_ was a vinegar-faced one, if you like, and they do say was a spy on the lady. It was Lady Rashleigh -- Mr. Blagdon's sister -- that engaged me. She's a funny one, with a big face and a loud voice; it was her notion sending the child down here, and later on, maybe, she's coming herself. She don't care for Miss Cara -- says we have her spoiled. What do you say to that, missy? Sometimes, you are a very naughty little girl, you know" (missy, drowsy and indifferent, closed her big blue eyes). Then the nurse lowering her voice, proceeded: "Sometimes she looks like a little angel, doesn't she? But other times, I tell you, you'd think it was a little devil you had to deal with! Of course, there being no lady, it's a responsible situation, and I've no nursemaid, as you see; it's a good place, and the wages is first-class. _Sixty_ -- only for that, I never would stand the loneliness -- and the child."