"Now, my darling, if you like, we will go and get your milk for
breakfast; for I know where it is to be had, and nice, new, good milk I
hope it may be, to make my little Trotty very fat."
"Is not Rosy fat now?" asked the little girl, in surprise, and feeling
first her plump cheeks and then her round arms with her stumpy little
fingers.
"O, pretty well," said nurse laughing, "but you may be fatter yet, and I
like fat little girls."
They had not to walk far before they came to the place where the milk
was sold. It was called a farm; and nurse took Rosy in, and said she
should see the dairy if the good woman would let her.
Rosy did not know what a dairy meant; but she supposed that it was
something curious, and tripped merrily along, wondering what she should
see, till they came to a room which had a floor made of red tiles, on
which stood at least ten or twelve large open bowls full of new milk.
Now Rosy happened to be very fond of milk; and as she was just then
quite ready for her breakfast, she was very pleased to have her mug
filled,--the mug which she had brought on purpose, as nurse told
her,--and then take a good drink.
"Ah, nurse, how good it is!" she cried; "but what is all this sticking
to my lips? It is not white like our milk. See, there is something on
the top of it!" and she held out her mug to show her.
"Ah, that's cream, good cream. We did not get milk like this in Paris,"
said nurse; "and I'm sure we don't in London. There's no water here, is
there, madame?"
But madame did not understand English; so nurse was obliged, by looking
very pleased, to make her see that she thought her milk very good.
"But it's very bad of the other people to put water in my milk," said
Rosy, frowning. "I shall ask my papa to scold them when we go home; and
I shall take a great mugful of this nice milk to show my grandmamma."
"Well, now say good by prettily in French, as your papa teaches you,"
said nurse, "and then we'll go home, and I dare say we shall find some
more milk there."
"Adieu, madame," said the little girl, and off she trotted again, as
ready to go as she had been to come.
They say "madame" to every one in France, you know, and not to rich
ladies only.
Now there are beautiful hills all round the back of Cannes, and a little
way up one of these was the house where Rosy was going to live. She did
so like running up and down hills! and there were two or three little
ones between the farm and this house, which was called a villa.