"My old nurse, and Harry's, and yours, and Rose's. She nursed us all, babies, and took care of mamma when she died. She was mama's maid when she got married, and lived with her all her life. She is here still."
"I must see Margery, then. I shall like her, I know; for I like all things old and storied, and venerable. I can remember mamma the last time she was in England; her tall, slender figure, her dark, wavy hair, and beautiful smile. She used to take me in her arms in the twilight and sing me to sleep."
"Dear Kate! But Grace has been a mother to me. Do you know, Margery says Rose is like her?"
"Whom? Mamma?"
"Yes; all except her temper. Oh!" cried Eeny, making a sudden grimace, "hasn't Rose got a temper!"
Kate smiled.
"A bad one?"
"A bad one! You ought to see her tearing up and down the room in a towering passion, and scolding. Mon Dieu!" cried Eeny, holding her breath at the recollection.
"Do you ever quarrel?" asked Kate, laughing.
"About fifty times a day. Oh, what a blessing it was when she went to Ottawa! Grace and I have been in paradise ever since. She'll behave herself for a while when she comes home, I dare say, before you and papa; but it won't be for long."