to nurse in quite a different way.

I didn't know what it all meant; and especially, I couldn't think why
she was always getting so red when nurse talked about flowers and
plants. At last I found out that Jane was going away altogether; and a
month or two after Christmas, nurse dressed Bobby and me one day, and
took us to church, and mamma took care of baby at home. And at church we
saw Jane with her father and mother, and I whispered to Bobby that the
strange man with them was Mr. Owen, grandmamma's head-gardener, and I
couldn't think how he came to be in our church! But when the service was
all over, nurse took us into the vestry, and told us to go and give Jane
a kiss, because she was Mrs. Owen now, and we must "say something
pretty."

It doesn't seem to do to tell little folks that sort of thing. You
remember, when Jane herself gave me that charge ever so long ago, it
didn't answer, and now there was Bobby crying and sobbing out that "Mr.
Owen shouldn't take Janie away; he was a naughty man; he didn't like
him at all!" But nobody seemed to mind this, indeed they all looked
pleased; and Mr. Owen turned round, and asked me if he should take me
back to Beecham too?

Ah, by this time, I was quite sure, and didn't hesitate at all when I
said, "No, thank you, I'd rather stay at home."

* * * * *

And now, little readers, I meant to have tumbled you off my knee, and
sent you up to bed, for I fancy my story has not kept you from getting
sleepy. But there is nursie making signs to me, as much as to say, "Go