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Updated: June 15, 2025
Grandmamma's house was stiff and gloomy, shaded by high trees and thick vines which jealously shut out the sun whenever he tried to shine in at the window panes. Grandmamma's servants were old too, like the house. Most of them had gray hair. Nursey wore spectacles; the coachman indulged in rheumatism. Grandmamma herself was old and feeble.
"Only that I got so desperate after seeing her that I wrote that funny, funny letter, and nursey helped me; and now I'm here, and I think I can do what I like. You had best be friends with me now, for I can do just what I like." Pauline felt just a little afraid. She knelt down by Pen. "Tell me why you went," she said. "You know you disobeyed Aunt Sophy when you went."
The only thing that agrees with Paulie is me. She likes to have me with her, and I understand her. But never mind about Paulie now. I want to ask you a question. Am I the sort of little girl that lions would crunch up?" "I never!" cried nurse. "You are the queerest child!" "But am I, nursey? Speak." "I suppose so, Miss Pen." "I thought so," answered Pen, with a sigh. "I thought as much.
"Oh, Nursey, isn't he lovely? Look at him!" cried Terry, running to her. But Vulcan seemed to know he was now to be put in the wrong. He jumped up, floundering about in Nurse Nancy's cotton gown, which had got caught from the front so as to enable him to run.
"Oh, please, a few minutes more," began Kitty, but was off like a flash; for the shoes trotted her upstairs so fast that she ran against old Nursey, and down she went, splashing the water all over the floor, and scolding in such a funny way that it made Kitty laugh so that she could hardly pick her up again.
"Now, Miss Terry, it's too much in your own hands you are entirely, Miss," said Nancy. "You had a right to stay quiet till I came to give you leave to get up." "But, Nancy dear, what would be the use in my lying there to be a trouble to you when I have got a pair of hands of my own? But oh, Nursey, will you put in a few buttons up my back for me?
"I really do think, Miss Ida," said Nurse, "that you'll go out of your mind some day, with your outlandish fancies. And where you get them, I can't think. I'm sure I never put such things into your head." Ida laughed again. "Never mind, Nursey, it all belongs to the pug story. Am I done now?
"No!" cried Singh sharply. "I hate the coward." "Oh, my dear!" cried the old lady. "He doesn't mean it, nursey," cried Glyn, getting hold of her hand again. "He only said it because he feels so sore. He's got a sore face and a sore temper; but it will be all right when he gets well." "I hope so, my dear; and you will shake hands with him, won't you?"
A long "Oh!" escaped her then; and when she was dressed and saw herself in the glass, she started back, exclaiming, "Why, Nursey, I look like the spirit in my dream!" "So you do; and that's the part you are to play, my pretty! Now whist, while I blind your eyes and put you in your place."
Ay, lay down your arms and bend the suppliant knee, sheathe your useless sword, and hush to soothing whisper the voice that thundered in command a week agone; hide away with noiseless hand the heavy boot and clinking spur; off with belt and buckle and scratching shoulder-strap, and don your softest dressing-gown and creakless slipper; submit to search for pins and needles you never carried; promise you will only talk just so much, and stay only just so long, and will sit only just in such a place and won't attempt to agitate her, "for we must still be very, very careful," and at last you are admitted, and you kneel by the white bed and hear the rapturous ecstasy of welcome in her faint voice, and read of her sacred martyrdom in the white cheek and fragile hand, and glory in the pride and joy of that wondering, wonderful mother-look in the great, deep, lustrous eyes, and kiss again the warm, sweet lips that are heaven's nectar to the thirst of yours; and then and then there is revealed to you that little, wrinkled, ruddy head, all folds and puckers and creases, all the redder and uglier for contrast with the snowy bosom in which it twists and burrows, and those expressionless, saucer-blue, liquid, blinking little eyes, and tiny upturned nose, and puckering, gurgling, querulous mouth, all that is visible from the folds of the white blanket worn as only Indian and baby can wear one; and you are bidden to declare that he is the very, very image of you, bless his honeyed lips! and then you must take him one minute, nurse must let her see Jack with his baby boy in his arms! and though fearful, you assent, and with reverent, prayerful gratitude, you receive your first-born to your heart, and thank God for the infinite mercy that has brought her, the sweet young wife and mother, through her deadly peril, and then you would kiss the helpless, staring, blinking, little blanket-framed face; but at first touch of those bristling moustaches a powerful spasm has convulsed the tiny features, and a vehement, plaintive, wailing protest bursts from the contorted lips, and then your son and heir is snatched away, and you stand like convicted felon, while nursey dandles and tosses and condoles and condones and cuddles.
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