neither did anybody else--for long."

"But how long did it last?" I asked.

"Oh, a month, or maybe six weeks," shrugged Nurse Sarah. "Then it came
September and college began, and your father had to go back to his
teaching. Things began to change then."

"Right then, so you could see them?" I wanted to know.

Nurse Sarah shrugged her shoulders again.

"Oh, la! child, what a little question-box you are, an' no mistake,"
she sighed. But she didn't look mad--not like the way she does when
I ask why she can take her teeth out and most of her hair off and I
can't; and things like that. (As if I didn't know! What does she take
me for--a child?) She didn't even look displeased--Nurse Sarah _loves_
to talk. (As if I didn't know that, too!) She just threw that quick
look of hers over her shoulder and settled back contentedly in her
chair. I knew then I should get the whole story. And I did. And I'm
going to tell it here in her own words, just as well as I can remember
it--bad grammar and all. So please remember that I am not making all
those mistakes. It's Nurse Sarah.

I guess, though, that I'd better put it into a new chapter. This
one is yards long already. How _do_ they tell when to begin and
end chapters? I'm thinking it's going to be some job, writing this
book--diary, I mean. But I shall love it, I know. And this is a _real_
story--not like those made-up things I've always written for the girls
at school.