She would creep into the old lady’s sitting-room, and nestle down at her feet, ready to hold a skein of silk for her to wind; to pick up her scissors when she should drop them; to ring the bell for a servant, or to do anything else that her little hands and willing mind could accomplish.
And so it came to pass that she became useful and even necessary to her benefactress.
“You have no idea how many steps about my room the little creature saves me,” said Mrs. Lyon to the child’s mother.
“I am very glad to hear it, madam; it is her duty to make herself useful,” replied the housekeeper.
“And then she is so much company.”
“I hope she knows her place, madam, and is not pert.”
“She is a little dear, and I would not be without her for anything; so don’t be troubled.”
“I trust in you, madam, to send her away whenever she becomes annoying to you.”
“Quite right; when she becomes annoying I shall do so,” laughed the old lady.
Whenever Mrs. Lyon got letters from Mr. Alexander she read them to little Drusilla; and in no one could she have found a more attentive, intelligent and sympathizing listener. In almost every letter the young gentleman wrote: