"How do my kisses feel?" she asked, breathing a very soft one on each of the old woman's cheeks.
"Eh, dear," said the nurse, "they're like fresh cream and strawberries."
"Well, you shall have six more if you tell me what your fears were."
Nurse looked admiringly back at Nan.
"You're just the audacious, contrary, troublesome bit of a thing you always were," she said; "but somehow I can't resist you. There's no fear now of anything happening, so you needn't be in a taking; but what did put me out was this: I thought your father, Sir John, might be bringing a new mistress here."
"What! a new mistress?—A housekeeper, do you mean?" Nan's brown eyes were open at their widest.
"No, dearie, no, a wife—someone to take the head of the house. Men like Sir John must have their comforts, and a house without a mistress isn't as it ought to be. But there, Miss Hetty is here now, and that makes everything right."
"But a new mistress," repeated Nan—"a new wife for father. Why, she—she'd be a stepmother. Oh, how I'd hate her."
"Well, darling, there's not going to be any such person; it was only an idle fear of your poor old nurse's that will never come to anything. Forget that I said it to you, Miss Nan. Oh, my word! and there's the gong, so supper is ready, and Sir John won't like to be kept waiting. Let me brush out your hair, I won't be a minute. Now, there's my pretty. It's good to have you back again, Miss Nancy. Only I misdoubt me that you'll turn the house topsy-turvey, as you always and ever did."
While nurse was speaking, she was deftly and quickly changing Nan's travel-stained frock for a white one, and was tying a coral pink sash round her waist.