They were, both of them, as strong as horses, but very hypochondriacal,
and Dr. Armstrong of Mulberry Place made a very pleasant little income
out of them.

I have mentioned them at length, because they had a great deal to do
with Angelina's quiet behaviour. No. 21 was not a house that welcomed a
child's ringing laughter. But, in any case, the Misses Braid were not
fond of children, but only took Angelina because they had a soft spot in
their dry hearts for their brother Jim, and in any case it would have
been difficult to say no.

Their attitude to children was that they could not understand why they
did not instantly see things as they, their elders, saw them; but then,
on the other hand, if an especially bright child did take a grown-up
point of view about anything _that_ was considered "forward" and
"conceited," so that it was really very difficult for Angelina.

"It's a pity Jim's got such a dull child," Miss Violet would say. "You
never would have expected it."

"What I like about a child," said Miss Emmy, "is a little cheerfulness
and natural spirit--not all this moping."

Angelina was not, on the whole, popular.... The aunts had very little
idea of making a house cheerful for a child. The room allotted to
Angelina as a nursery was at the top of the house, and had once been a
servant's bedroom. It possessed two rather grimy windows, a faded brown
wallpaper, an old green carpet, and some very stiff, hard chairs. On one
wall was a large map of the world, and on the other an old print of
Romans sacking Jerusalem, a picture which frightened Angelina every