'Mamma,' she said brokenly, 'I didn't, oh, truly, I didn't mean it that
way. I know papa isn't old enough to die; but I thought he was too big
to be ill like that.'

'Biddy,' said Alie sternly, 'you are talking nonsense again. You know
big people are ill often, and sometimes they get better and sometimes
they die. Don't you remember Mrs. Hay--Meta Hay's mamma? She was ill
and----'

'Yes, I quite forgot,' exclaimed Biddy eagerly; 'I didn't think. Yes,
Meta's mamma was very ill, and she died. I wish I'd remembered; and she
wasn't at all old like Grandmamma Vane.'

She spoke almost cheerfully. Again Mrs. Vane glanced at her elder
daughter.

'It's no use,' she was beginning, but Alie interrupted. How she wished
the unfortunate Mrs. Hay had not been the first instance to occur to
her!

'_Children_ get ill and die too sometimes,' Alie went on, 'and big
people very often get better. There was Captain Leonard next door to us
at home----'

'And--I know--the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa,' cried Biddy. 'I
_am_ so glad I thought of him. I was in the kitchen one morning fetching
sand for Tweetums's cage and he came in, and cook asked how was his
papa, and he said, "Finely better, I thank ye, mum." I think cook said
he was a _Hirish_ boy,' Bridget hurried on in her excitement--and when
she was excited I am afraid her 'h's' were apt to suffer--Mrs. Vane