"Quite easily," said Nannie. "When I saw that you must go to Hames, as of course you had to, I thought to myself, I'll wait! Years ago my lady said to me, I Nannie, don't let my child throw away her own chance of happiness. I feel that a day may come when she will be called upon to make a sacrifice, and she will make it, regardless of her own feelings. You were always giving up your toys and things to the boys; that's what made your mother think of it. The day she spoke of came the morning the telegram came from Hames. I had been waiting and waiting so as to be sure to do what your mother told me, and the day came. You see, I saw the paper, and I knew!" "How, Nannie? No one knew, I thought." "Ah, nannies know things; much use they'd be in this world if they didn't? I know lots of things I'm not supposed to! Well, I waited, and no telegram came from him that day. There were all sorts of things about him in the evening paper, being a hero and a lion and all those sort of things. Then the next day the telegram came. The ship had been late; you never can tell with ships. Leave ships to sailors, I say. Well, I opened the telegram. It said, 'Will you see me if I come straight to you?' or some such words, and I answered it." "What did you say, Nannie?" "I don't see that that matters. There's nothing in words, and I'm no scholar." "Nannie dear, it does matter. It meant everything in the world to me. If only you knew how happy I am, how ridiculously happy." "It's all right, then. I've done what she said." A rapturous smile illuminated her old face. "All right, Nannie?" Only a hug can express some things. Nannie straightened her cap. "Well, then," she said, drawing herself up, "I couldn't do it for sixpence, it cost ninepence halfpenny. I said, 'Come. Been waiting for you for years.'" "Nannie!" I exclaimed. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Professional Aunt, by Mary C.E. Wemyss