II
LILY-ANN
"This is Lily-Ann, Rhoda," my mother said, in an introductory tone. "She is to be your little nurse, and play with you. Do you know many nice games, Lily-Ann?"
From the shelter of my mother's chair I stared at the new-comer. I almost thought at first that it might be a little girl, until I noticed the shining folds of white apron. Lily-Ann was all white apron, down to the tops of her large, patched shoes. She was fourteen years old, perhaps, with the dignity of forty. She had a wide, smiling face, and appeared to be very agreeable in manner, so when she put out her hand I slipped mine cordially into it.
"I can play at wild beasts, and puss-in-the-corner, and 'ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross,'" she told my mother over my head. "I am experienced. I have helped to raise three children, ma'am."
She looked so small as she ended in this impressive fashion that my mother laughed, and my grandmother gleamed responsively through her glasses.
"It must be only quiet games, mind," my mother said. "You mustn't teach Miss Rhoda to be noisy."
Lily-Ann promised to observe this caution faithfully, and I suppose she thought that they were only quiet games which we played that morning. We had all three,—Banbury Cross, then puss-in-the-corner, and, finally, wild beasts. Lily-Ann crawled under the bed and roared at me, now like a tiger, now plaintively, like a big pussy cat, and again with a deeper note that carried menace in its tone.