Two boys, the sons of Marjory, were with their father in these panelled rooms.
Miss Marjory could not find a sheet of letter-paper anywhere.
Marjory, you little mite; you arent as big as you were the last time I saw youare they abusing you at this place?
In an incredibly short time the good lady was with us; and was rocking Marjory in her arms, crying and laughing over her wildly.
I went over at once to the table near the fire where Marjory usually sat at night.
