"How is it we know so little of the cousin, Crawley?"
"Well, my dear, her papa married a lady who thinks schools and all that sort of thing necessary. At least, that's what your dear grandmamma has told me, and I daresay you'll find little Miss Packingham very forward with her books. So you must make haste and learn to read better. For you are getting on for eight years old."
Ella sighed.
"I can read," she said, "and I can speak French and Italian; I daresay Irene can't do that."
"Well, that's nothing," said Crawley, "for I can talk French after my fashion, just because I have lived with my dear mistress out of England so long. But there's another little lady coming, you know. Her mamma knew your mamma. She used to be a pretty creature, and I daresay she's like her."
"She mayn't be like her, for grannie says Irene isn't like Aunt Eva. I want to see her. I wish to-morrow would come."
And Baby Bob murmured from his little bed in the corner, "Wish 'morrow would come."