"Sir George said he would have it papered and painted throughout. It is in good repair. His coachman lived there for ten years before he went to the war, and his wife was a 'clean body,' so Mrs. Horn informed me. Poor thing, she died a month after she had left it. She had a weak heart, and she heard of her husband's death suddenly, and it just killed her."
"Did you see Lady Melville?"
"Just for a moment. Sir George sent his love to you. He said it would be like old times to see you again."
There was silence. The little girls were busy eating their bread and treacle, but their ears were taking everything in.
"And is the cottage lonely?" asked Granny.
"No, I don't think so. It lies just off a road. There's not much passing, but, Mother dear, you will revel in the peace and quiet after this!"
Aunt Alice waved her hand out of the window. She was smiling brightly. Granny looked at her rather wistfully. "And you have quite made up your mind to give up your war work and come with us? You don't think I could manage with the children?"
"I am sure you could not, Mother. There will be wood to be sawn, and the garden to be tilled. Sir George has given us leave to gather all the wood we want from his woods, but we can get no man or boy to help us. Mrs. Horn told me that. She is running her small farm without any man at all, her two daughters do everything. The children must make themselves useful."
"And what about their lessons?"
Aunt Alice looked grave.