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Updated: June 20, 2025
Overtheway, and her prosy stories, and all that befell her long ago," said the little old lady, smiling affectionately at Ida, "I will tell her the story my story the story of Reka Dom." "Oh, how good of you!" cried Ida. "There is not much merit in it," said the little old lady. "The story is as much for myself as you.
Then, if the chimes went on till half the basinful was eaten, little Ida would nod her head contentedly, and whisper "Mrs. Overtheway was in time." Little Ida's history was a sad one. Her troubles began when she was but a year old, with the greatest of earthly losses for then her mother died, leaving a sailor husband and their infant child.
When dolls seemed vanity, and Noah's Ark a burden, it had been a quiet amusement, demanding no exertion, to see what little she could see of the old lady's life, and to speculate about what she could not; to wonder and fancy what Mrs. Overtheway looked like without her bonnet, and what she did with herself when she was not at church. Ida's imagination did not carry her far.
There they were at last, and there was Mrs. Overtheway. She looked up, waved a bunch of snowdrops, and went after the bells. Ida kissed her hand, and waved it over and over again, long after the little old lady was out of sight. "There's a kiss for you, dear Mrs.
Overtheway because, you know, she lives over the way. At least " Ida added, looking back across the road with a sudden confusion in her ideas, "at least I mean you know we live over the way." And overwhelmed with shame at her own stupidity, Ida stuffed the flowers into the woman's hand, and ran home as if a lion were at her heels. "Well! But Ida clung close and flung her arms round Nurse's neck.
But there is a limit even to the space of time for which one can enjoy tea and buttered toast. The tray was carried off, the hyacinth put in its place, and Ida curled herself up in an easy chair on one side of the fire, Mrs. Overtheway being opposite. "You see I am over the way still," laughed the little old lady. "Now, tell me all about the primroses."
And I've done something you could never, never think of if you tried till next Christmas, I've got some flowers for Mrs. Overtheway, only I did it so stupidly; she will think me a perfect goose, and perhaps be angry," and the tears came into Ida's eyes.
Ida crept to the little old lady's feet, and softly stroked the slipper that rested on the fender. Then, while the March wind howled beyond the curtains, she made herself a cosy corner by the fire, and composed herself to hear the story. "I remember," said Mrs. Overtheway. "I remember Reka Dom. It was our new home.
Overtheway left the house, but Nurse was of a slightly exaggerative turn of mind, and few people speak exactly on the subject of time, especially when there is an opportunity of triumphing over someone who has been asleep before bed-time. The condition of Ida's being good was also the work of Nurse's own instructive fancy, but Ida caught eagerly at the welcome news of another visit.
"It isn't really a story, either. It is not even like Nurse's experiences. It is only a strong remembrance of my childhood, that isn't worth repeating, and could hardly amuse you." "Indeed, indeed, it would," said Ida. "I like the sound of it. Satin is so different from cooks." Mrs. Overtheway laughed. "Still, I wish I could think of something more entertaining," said she.
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