‘Will it seem quite ordinary to me soon, Cousin Delia?’
And she said:
‘I don’t know; to me it never has; to me when Guy and Hugo are there, it is still almost like this. It has never got “ordinary” at all.’
I said:
‘Were you very glad they were sons?’
And she said:
‘Yes; I was glad. I wanted a daughter too, but you were like having a daughter.’
I said:
‘Cousin Delia, I do so wish I had been really your daughter.’
She looked out of the window.