“May I come in, dear Mrs. Buller?” she said, “I won’t stay two minutes; but I must hear about the Duchess. Now, are you busy?”
“Not at all,” said Aunt Theresa, who was in the midst of making up her tradesmen’s books. “Pray sit down, and take off your bonnet.”
“It’s hardly worth while, for I can’t stay,” said Mrs. O’Connor, taking her bonnet off, and setting it down so as not to crush the flowers.
As Mrs. O’Connor stayed two hours and a half, and as Aunt Theresa granted my request to be allowed to hear her narrative, I learnt a good deal of the history of my great-grandmother.
CHAPTER VIII.
A FAMILY HISTORY.
“We are not really connected,” Mrs. Buller began. “She is Margery’s great-grandmother, and Margery and I are second cousins. That’s all. But I knew her long ago, before my poor cousin Alice married Captain Vandaleur. And I have heard the whole story over and over again.”
I have heard the story more than once also. I listened with open mouth to Aunt Theresa at this time, and often afterwards questioned her about my “ancestors,” as I may almost call them.
Years later I used to repeat these histories to girls I was with. When we were on good terms they were interested to hear, as I was proud to tell, and would say, “Tell us about your ancestors, Margery.” And if we fell out there was no surer method of annoying me than to slight the memory of my great-great-grandparents.