Only to one person would Hetty ever voluntarily say a word about the beloved dead mother, and that was to little Nan. Nan said her prayers, as she expressed it, to Hetty now; and Hetty taught her a little phrase to use instead of the familiar “God bless mother.” She taught the child to say, “Thank God for making mother into a beautiful angel;” and when Nan asked what an angel was, and how the cosy mother she remembered could be turned into one, Hester was beguiled into a soft and tearful talk, and she drew several lovely pictures of white-robed angels, until the little child was satisfied and said—
“Me like that, Hetty—me’ll be angel too, Hetty, same as mamma.”
These talks with Nan, however, did not come very often, and of late they had almost ceased, for Nan was only two and a half, and the strange sad fact remained that in three months she had almost forgotten her mother.
Hester on her way to school this morning cried for some time, then she sat silent, her crape veil still down, and her eyes watching furtively her fellow-passengers. They consisted of two rather fidgety old ladies, who wrapped themselves in rugs, were very particular on the question of hot bottles, and watched Hester in their turn with considerable curiosity and interest. Presently one of them offered the little girl a sandwich, which she was too proud or too shy to accept, although by this time she was feeling extremely hungry.
“You will, perhaps, prefer a cake, my dear?” said the good-natured little old lady. “My sister Agnes has got some delicious queen-cakes in her basket—will you eat one?”
Hester murmured a feeble assent, and the queen-cake did her so much good that she ventured to raise her crape veil and to look around her.
“Ah, that is much better,” said the first little old lady. “Come to this side of the carriage, my love; we are just going to pass through a lovely bit of country, and you will like to watch the view. See; if you place yourself here, my sister Agnes’s basket will be just at your feet, and you can help yourself to a queen-cake whenever you are so disposed.”
“Thank you,” responded Hester, in a much more cheerful tone, for it was really quite impossible to keep up reserve with such a bright-looking little old lady; “your queen-cakes are very nice, and I liked that one, but one is quite enough, thank you. It is Nan who is so particularly fond of queen-cakes.”
“And who is Nan, my dear?” asked the sister to whom the queen-cakes specially belonged.
“She is my dear little baby sister,” said Hester in a sorrowful tone.