"Very kind," said the little girl, brightening up somewhat at the unexpected kindness from one almost a stranger to her.
"Grapes, Miss Sarah, and peaches, and Orleans plums; and see--potted meat! Now how could she know you're so fond of potted meat?"
"I don't know, nurse; he liked potted meat too, you know."
"Yes, dear, yes; but he's gone where he has all he's most fond of, you know."
"Except me," murmured Sarah, under her breath.
"Ah, that's true, my lamb; but you mustn't repine. Him as took the master away so calm and peaceful last night knew just what was best to do, and He'll do it, never fear! It's hard to bear, my honey, and sure," with a sigh, "no one knows better what bearing such is than old nurse. And--hark! to think of any one coming with a knock like that! enough to waken the----" But then she broke off short, and went to open the door.
CHAPTER II
HER NEW-FOUND AUNT
A short, stout, well-dressed woman stood upon the door-step, and the cabman was just hauling a box off the roof of his cab.
"Mr. Gray's 'ouse?" demanded the stout lady. "Ah, pore thing! I see it's all over. Pore thing! Well, I'm sorry, of course, though I don't suppose 'e'll be much loss to any one; pore, dreaming, shiftless thing!"