'James? Hasn't he another name?'
'I've never heard him speak of it.'
'What pretty children they are--and how beautifully you keep them!'
Her words made me tingle; because, although I say it, there are no children round these parts who are kept like mine. She sat staring at Jimmy; and he didn't seem a bit afraid.
'Come here,' she said. He went, and she put him on her knee. 'He's like his father.'
'That's what I say, miss.'
'He has his father's eyes.'
Which was a fact. Though how she knew it was is more than I could say. Pollie, who always follows Jimmy, had placed herself beside her brother.
'The girl's like you; though she's not so pretty as her mother.'
'Oh, miss, you shouldn't talk like that; especially before the children. Besides, I'm not pretty now. I know I was once, because they used to tell me so. But now I'm old.'