The days went on.
'I cannot think it right to tamper with my mother in this false way.' The spinster daughter spoke tearfully.
'Would you rather see Mistress Macdonald die of starvation?' The doctor spoke sharply; he was tired of the protest. The doctor approved of the new maid. 'She's a wise-like body,' he said; 'let her have her way.'
'Don't you know us, mother?' the daughters would ask patiently, sadly, day by day. But she never knew them; she only mistook one or the other of them at times for her own mother, of whom she stood in some awe.
'Surely ye've not forgotten Ann Johnston, ma'am?' the nurse would ask, carefully tending her old mistress.
The force of long habit had made the old lady patient and courteous, but no answering gleam came in her face.
'Ye know who I am?' the new maid would cry in kindly triumph.
'Oh, ay, I know you, Jeanie Trim.'
'And now, look, I brought you a fine cup of milk, warm from the byre.'
'Oh, I canna tak' it; I'm no thinking that I care about eating the day.'