“Of course. Wasn’t she mother’s nurse, years ago?”
“Oh—I thought she was a lady of means who had just lost everything,” remarked Eleanor.
“Well, it is this way. When mother was a little mite Martha was a girl of about fourteen. Grandma engaged her to push mother’s carriage out for a walk every day. Then Martha grew up and married and mother never saw her again, for a long time.
“Her husband’s nephew came to live with them, as Martha never had any children, but her nephew grew up and married. Then Martha’s husband died, and she went to live with the nephew and his wife. They were well-to-do young people, and Martha had an easy life there.
“They had a baby, and Martha took care of him, as if she was his own mother. Then the nephew enlisted in the war and was killed ‘over there.’ His wife pined a lot, and during the epidemic of the flu, last Winter, she took it and died, too.
“That left Martha with the baby, but she hadn’t a cent to live on, because there was only the money the baby ought to have had from the Government, because of losing his father in battle. But Martha didn’t understand how to go about getting it, and when a friend of hers offered to find a good home for the baby, the poor great-aunt consented. She had no other choice, as she would have to work herself, and could not be hampered by a little boy.
“Then she came to mother and that is how it all happened.”
“I wonder what became of her grand-nephew?” asked Polly.
“Mother begged of me not to mention it, and never to refer to the past, when Martha was about,” said Ruth, seriously.
“I suppose the poor thing misses her little nephew so much!” observed Polly, sympathetically.