Four years ago. Looking back to-night, Grace sighed to think how pleasant it had all been, now that it was over. It had been such a quiet, untroubled time—she sole mistress, Rose's fits of ill-temper and Eeny's fits of illness the only drawback. And now it was at an end forever. The heiress of Danton Hall was coming to wield the sceptre, and a new era would dawn with the morrow.
There was a tap at the door, and a voice asking: "May I come in, Grace?" and Grace woke up from her dreaming.
"Yes, Eeny," she said; and Eeny came in, looking at her searchingly.
"Have you been crying?" she asked, taking a stool at her feet.
"Crying? no! What should I cry for?"
"You look so solemn. I heard your visitor go, and ran up. Who was it?"
"My brother, who has just returned from Germany."
"Dear me! Didn't I say he had eyes like you? He's a Doctor, isn't he?"
"Yes."
"Grace, I thought you said you were poor?"