“She is my cousin on mother’s side,” Mrs. Morton said. “She is the great woman of Bronson, and the richest, and lives in the grandest house. She never had any children of her own, and I do not think her very fond of them. She would be kind in a certain way, but very exacting. She does not understand them. She used to teach school, and was very strict, indeed. She could not make allowances for the difference between herself and little folks. She is Aunt Nancy’s own niece.” “And who is Aunt Nancy?” Bee asked, and Mrs. Morton replied, “Mother’s old maid sister, Nancy Phillips, who has always lived with us. She is the neatest, most particular person you ever saw; and because she is strong and willing, and mother is feeble, she has run the house so long that she thinks it is her own, and orders father as if he were a dog. But she has many excellent traits, and they could not live without her. She was always kind to me, and I’d rather trust my children with her than with Cousin Julia Hayden. It is very hard, and makes me so nervous.” “Yes, I can fancy it all,” Bee said; and then, recurring to the letter, she added: “You are to give up the one which will fill the house the fullest and make the most noise. Now, which is that?” Instantly the eyes of both went over to the window, where Trixey was combing and brushing Bunchie’s hair, pulling and snarling it awfully, and talking all the time as fast as her tongue could fly. Yes, there was no mistake. Little Trix would fill the house the fullest and make the greatest _to do_, and Mrs. Hayden would never understand her, or make allowance for her busy, active ways; and Beatrice wanted her for herself, and said at last to Mrs. Morton: “Will you let me have Trixey, for as long a time as Mrs. Hayden would keep her? I know I can make her happy. You can trust her with me.”