About noon Nannie appeared, carefully made up and tastefully dressed in a white and green linen gown. The new servant had removed her corsets and exchanged her shoes for felt house slippers. And, when Nannie entered the dining room, was cleaning the silver ware. Grace, from the corner of her eye, gave Mrs. Merwent a shrewd glance. “Good morning,” said Nannie, passing on to the next room where she sat down to the piano. She finished running over some music and turned on the stool. “My, but you sing pretty!” exclaimed Grace, who had been watching unnoticed in the doorway. “Thank you.” Nannie smiled condescendingly, rising to pick up a volume of songs which she had laid on a nearby chair. “Is there anything I can do for you before I start luncheon, Mrs. Winter?” the servant inquired, still hesitating in the doorway. “I am Mrs. Merwent. Mrs. Winter is my daughter. Yes, you can come upstairs with me and I will show you how I wish my room done every day.” “Certainly, Mrs. Merwent,” acceded Grace. And the two went upstairs together. “I surely never would have taken you to be Mrs. Winter’s mother,” the girl asserted with conviction, as they entered Nannie’s room. “Grace!” Lucy called from the lower hall a few minutes later. “Where are you, Grace?” “I’m busy, Mrs. Winter,” the girl called in answer. “Well, leave whatever you are doing. I want you to begin luncheon. It’s late already.” “I can’t come now, Mrs. Winter,” was Grace’s retort. “I’m helping Mrs. Merwent.” “Wait a minute, Lucy. I’m explaining the work to Grace,” Nannie shouted impatiently. Lucy went to the kitchen and began to prepare the meal herself. “Is that a picture of you, Mrs. Merwent?” Grace was asking Nannie, pointing to a photograph on the dressing table. “Yes, but it was taken a long time ago,” Nannie explained modestly. “It’s a good likeness,” declared Grace. “Oh, I look lots older than that now!” protested Nannie. “Well, maybe you do look a teeny bit older, but I didn’t notice it,” Grace admitted, scrutinizing the picture again. “Ain’t Mrs. Winter your step-daughter?” she pursued. “No. She’s my own daughter,” confessed Nannie. “My, but you must have got married young!” exclaimed the girl. “Now, you can go down and help Mrs. Winter,” suggested Nannie pleasantly. “You understand how I want things. And don’t forget to do my room first always.” “I’ll not forget,” Grace promised, “and whenever you want anything, you just call me, Mrs. Merwent.” “I will, thank you, Grace.” Nannie smiled, and the servant descended to the kitchen. Lucy was looking hot and tired when luncheon was served. “Why is it that Jimmie always goes so early to kindergarten now-a-days?” Mrs. Merwent asked her when they had seated themselves at the table. “He goes over to Mrs. Hamilton’s after his breakfast,” replied Lucy, “and the wagon calls there for both children.”