"You may well stare, nurse. Mark my words, that child will be able to
twist him round with her little finger one of these days. I see it
a-developin'. It will be a terrible come-down to the master--but there,
I will say that the women always conquer, and they begin it when they're
in short frocks."

"I don't see the remarkableness in a gentleman taking notice of his own
sister's child," returned nurse testily; "the wonder is that he should
hold her at arm's length as he does, and treat her as if she were a dog
or a piece of furniture, without any feelings, and she his own flesh and
blood, too. There's no 'coming down' to have a spark of humanity in his
breast occasionally."

And nurse sailed upstairs, the loss of her purse and umbrella having
considerably ruffled her usually even temper.

Sir Edward seated himself by the study fire, and Milly stood before him,
one little hand resting upon his knee and the other holding her tiny
handkerchief to her eyes, and vainly trying to restrain her sobs.

"Now suppose you stop crying, and tell me what has happened!" her uncle
said, feeling moved at seeing his usually self-contained little niece in
such grief.

Milly applied her handkerchief vigorously to her eyes, and looking up
with quivering lips, she said,--

"I didn't mean to be naughty, uncle. Nurse hasn't been angry with me
like she is now for _years_, and I'm _so_ unhappy!"