"'Yes, yes. And you must tell me all about it—never mind how bad.
Is—is it—murder?'
"'Law bless you, miss, whatever put such horrors in your head?'
"'She was washing her hands.'
"'Ah, so she does, poor dear! But—murder! And dear little Miss
Margaret, that wouldn't go to hurt a fly!'
"'Miss Margaret?'
"'Eh, she died at seven year. Squire Kendall's only daughter; and that's over twenty year ago. I was her nurse, miss, and I know— diphtheria it was; she took it down in the village.'
"'But how do you know it is Margaret?'
"'Those hands—why, how could I mistake, that used to be her nurse?'
"'But why does she wash them?'
"'Well, miss, being always a dainty child—and the house-work, you see—'