How pretty it was inside that room! The walls were covered with pictures and photographs and coloured texts, a fire was burning in the grate, and in front of it lay a tortoiseshell cat fast asleep; the chimney-piece was adorned with stuffed birds and vases filled with grass, and on the round table was a large bunch of wallflowers, which filled the whole room with sweetness.
"Now then, what are you and Stephen like?" said the old woman, smiling again.
"Can't you see us, ma'am?" said Audrey.
"No, I can't see you," said the old woman quietly; "I'm blind."
"Oh dear, what a pity!" said little Stephen.
"No, not a pity," said the old woman, "not a pity, because the good Lord sees best; we must never say it's a pity."
"Can't you see anything?" said Audrey.
"Not a glimmer," said the old woman, "it is all dark now; but I can feel the warm sunshine, thank God, and I can smell these sweet flowers, and I can hear your bonny voices."
"I'm so sorry for you," said little Stephen, "so very, very sorry!"
"God bless you, my dear child!" said the old woman, and a tear rolled down her cheek and fell upon her knitting. "And now tell me who you are, and what you are like."