CHAPTER XII.
THE PANZY ROOM AND COSY NOOK.
"There is rosemary, that is for remembrance....
And there is pansies that's for thoughts."
Shakespeare.
"That way madness lies; let me shun that."
King Lear.
It was impossible for Waveney not to be amused by Nurse Marks' quaint tales; her sense of humour was too strong, and the atmosphere of the Cubby-house was so full of comfort that, in spite of herself, her sad face began to brighten.
"If you knew Sergeant McGill," she said, presently, "perhaps you knew his sweetheart, Sheila, too." Then Nurse Marks smiled and nodded, as she cut another appetising slice of bread-and-butter, and laid it on Waveney's plate—such sweet home-made bread and fresh, creamy butter!
"Aye, dearie, I knew Sheila McTavish well, for when I was a slip of a girl I had a bad illness, and my mother's cousin, Effie Stuart, took me back with her to the Highlands to bide with her for more than a year. The McTavish cottage was next to ours, and not a day passed that I did not see Sheila coming up from the loch-side with her creel, with her bare feet and red petticoat, and maybe a plaid over her bonnie brown hair. I was always a homely body, even in my young days, but never before or since have I seen a lovelier face than Sheila McTavish, 'the Flower of the Deeside'—that was what they called her."
"Was she engaged to McGill then?"