There were stuffed birds in cases, and little ivory chessmen riding upon ivory elephants.

There were picture-books, and there were mysterious drawers full of cards and puzzles, and glass marbles and old-fashioned toys, that the children's mother and aunts and uncles, and their great-aunts and uncles before that, had loved and played with years and years ago.

On the wall hung a great many pictures, some of them of funny little stiff boys in blue coats with brass buttons, and some of them of little girls with mob-caps and mittens, and these little boys and girls were all either dead now, or elderly men and women, for they were the great-aunts and uncles; and over the mantelpiece hung a picture of a lovely old lady, with bright, soft brown hair and smiling eyes and lips, that looked as if they were just going to speak to the two strange little children who had come for their first visit to their mother's old home.

Milly knew quite well that it was a picture of great-grandmamma.

She had seen others like it before, only not so large as this one, and she looked at it quietly, with her grave blue eyes, while Olly was eagerly wandering round the room, spying into everything, and longing to touch this, that, and the other, if only mother would let go his hand.
"You know who that is, don't you, little woman ?" said Aunt Emma, taking her up on her knee.
"Yes," said Milly, nodding, "it's great-grandmamma.