"I wish you'd talk sense, and not give way with your head so when I pull, Miss Ida," retorted Nurse, "having things, and not having things; I don't know what you mean." "Well, you know, Nursey, the other day when I said I didn't like bread-and-treacle treacled so long before, and soaked in, and you said I ought to be thankful that I had bread-and-treacle at all, and that I hadn't a wooden leg, and to eat anything I could get, like the old sailor man at the corner; well, do you know, I've thought of something I _am_ so thankful for, and that is that I haven't a red screen to my bed." "I really do think, Miss Ida," said Nurse, "that you'll go out of your mind some day, with your outlandish fancies. And where you get them, I can't think. I'm sure _I_ never put such things into your head." Ida laughed again. "Never mind, Nursey, it all belongs to the pug story. Am I done now? And when you've tucked me up, please, would you mind remembering to put the flower where I can see it when I wake?" Nurse did as she was asked, and Ida watched the hyacinth till she fell asleep; and she slept well. In the morning she took her old post at the window. The little old lady had never seemed so long in making her appearance, nor the bells so slow to begin. Chim! chime! chim! chime! There they were at last, and there was Mrs. Overtheway. She looked up, waved a bunch of snowdrops, and went after the bells. Ida kissed her hand, and waved it over and over again, long after the little old lady was out of sight. "There's a kiss for you, dear Mrs. Overtheway," she cried, "and kisses for your flowers, and your house, and everything belonging to you, and for the bells and the church, and everybody in it this morning, and--" But, at this point of universal benevolence, Nurse carried her off to breakfast. The little old lady came to tea as before. She looked as well as ever, and Nurse was equally generous in the matter of tea and toast. Mrs. Overtheway told over again what Ida had missed in the story of Mrs. Moss, and Ida apologized, with earnest distress, for her uncivil conduct in falling asleep. "There I was snoring away, when you were telling me such a delightful story!" she exclaimed, penitently. "Not snoring exactly, my dear," smiled the little old lady, "but you looked very happy." "I thought Nursey said so," said Ida. "Well, I'm very glad. It would have been too rude. And you know I don't know how it was, for I _am_ so fond of stories; I like nothing so well." "Well, shall I try again?" said Mrs. Overtheway. "Perhaps I may find a more amusing one, and if it does put you to sleep, it won't do any harm. Indeed, I think the doctor will say I'm very good company for you." "You are very good! That _I_ can tell him," said Ida, fervently, "and please let it be about yourself again, if you can remember anything. I like true stories."