"Who is the lady?" I asked.
"It is an old servant who has been in the family more than eighty years. It was she who brought up my father, myself, and my children. She is ninety-eight years old to-day, and with our care we hope to see her live to a hundred."
We went upstairs, and on the third floor we entered a little suite of apartments, consisting of two most comfortable rooms, a bedroom and a little parlour. There we found the old lady, sitting in an arm-chair, and having a chat with one of the young ladies of the house.
"Janet," said my host, "I bring you our friend who wishes to present his respects to you."
"I am no as active as I was," said the good old soul to me, "but I am wonderfu' weel for my age. I shall soon be a hundred years of age."
"Nonsense," said my host kissing his old nurse, "who told you that? You have forgotten how to count, Janet; don't get absurd ideas into your head."
"We never leave her alone," he said to me; "my wife and daughters take it in turn to pass the day with her and amuse her. They bring their needlework and help poor old Janet to forget time."
I looked around me. The walls were covered with drawings and a thousand ornaments that only the heart of woman knows how to invent. Never a good dish came on the table without Janet having her share. At night all the family met in her little parlour for prayers and Bible reading.
I shook hands with the old servant and went away greatly touched.
"She is no longer a servant," said my host to me; "she has property, and all the household call her the old lady. She will be buried with us. I have already seen to the carrying out of her wishes on this subject. She wants to lie at the feet of the family, and has begged to have her grave made across the foot of ours. So I have bought a piece of ground next to our vault, and Janet's desire is to be carried out. We hope to keep her many years yet; we shall all miss her when she is gone."