“And she’s as odd as her name,” declared Mrs. Blight. “She comes here at this time every year, and always brings a parrot, a lap-dog, a band-box in a green muslin case, a blue umbrella, and a snuffy old maid, who eyes us all as if we had designs on her mistress’s life. The absurd old creature is devoted to her mistress, who is a mere bundle of whims and eccentricities. The old lady calls for a cup of coffee at midnight, and she hates our dear children, and she thrashed Leopold with her cane last year, because he put nettles in her bed and flour on her best cap, the poor dear innocent child. And I never dared to interfere to save Leopold, though his screams rang through the house, and I stood outside her door listening and peeping, for you know we must have her fifty thousand pounds, even if she takes the lives of all my darlings!” and Mrs. Blight’s tone was pathetic. “She’s a nasty old beast--there! Of course I say it in confidence, Miss Bird. It would be all up with us, if Aunt Wroat were to hear that I said that. She’s very tenacious of respect, and all that bother, and insisted I should punish Albert Victor because he called her ‘an old curmudgeon.’” “When do you expect this lady?” asked Lally. “To-morrow, with her maid, lapdog, parrot, umbrella and bandbox. She writes that she will stay a month, and that she must have no annoyance from the children, and that she won’t have them in her room--the old nuisance! If it wasn’t for her money, I’d telegraph her to go to Guinea, but as we are situated I can’t. I must put up with her ways. And what I want of you, Miss Bird, is to see that the children do not stir off this floor while she is here. Let them die for want of exercise, the poor darlings, rather than we offend this horrid old woman. If we sacrifice ourselves, she can’t leave her property to some fussy old charity, that’s one comfort.” “I will do my best to keep the children out of Mrs. Wroat’s sight,” said Lally gravely. “You must succeed in doing so, for the old lady says this will probably be her last visit to us, as she is growing more and more infirm, and she hints that it is time to make her will. Everything depends upon her reception on the occasion of this visit. Let her get miffed at us, and it’s all up. I declare I wish I had a place where I could hide the children during her stay. She must not see or hear them, Miss Bird.” “Is there anything more that I can do, Mrs. Blight?”