“Do you remember our old nurse, Theodore?” asked Lady Sophia, smiling.
“Old Anne Ramsay?” cried Canon Spratte, in his hearty way. “To be sure I do! I shall never forget her. She was a dear old soul.”
It was characteristic of him that in after years, when the nurse lived in the country on a pension, the Canon visited her with the utmost regularity. He never allowed Christmas or her birthday to pass without sending her a present. When she was attacked by a fatal illness he took a long journey to see her, by his cheerful, breezy manner did all that was possible to comfort her, and saw that she wanted nothing to make her final days easy and untroubled.
“Her affection is one of the most charming recollections of my childhood,” he added.
“I always think she must have been an excellent judge of character,” murmured Lady Sophia, in the even, indifferent tones she assumed when she was most sarcastic; “I remember how frequently she used to say: ‘Master Theodore, self-praise is no recommendation.’ ”
“You certainly have the oddest memories, my dear,” cried the Canon, with a scornful smile. “Now I remember how frequently she used to say: ‘Miss Sophia, your nose wants blowing.’ ”
It was a very good hit, and Lady Sophia, bridling, answered coldly: “She was a woman of no education, Theodore.”
“That is precisely what your reminiscence led me to believe,” he replied, with an ironical bow.
“Humph!”
The Canon, elated by this verbal triumph, looked at her mockingly, but before Lady Sophia could find an adequate rejoinder Lord Spratte and Wroxham were shown in together. Somewhat irritated by her defeat she greeted them with relief.