"The last picture was rather sad, but still it was very nice to see it, and I thank you very much, and I'll never say again that I don't like to be told I'm like my dear pretty grandmother." The cuckoo took no notice of what she said, but Griselda did not mind.
She was getting used to his "ways." "I expect he hears me quite well," she thought; "and even if he doesn't, it's only civil to _try_ to thank him." [Illustration: My aunts must have come back!] She sat still contentedly enough, thinking over what she had seen, and trying to make more "pictures" for herself in the fire.

Then there came faintly to her ears the sound of carriage wheels, opening and shutting of doors, a little bustle of arrival.
"My aunts must have come back," thought Griselda; and so it was.

In a few minutes Miss Grizzel, closely followed by Miss Tabitha, appeared at the ante-room door.
"Well, my love," said Miss Grizzel anxiously, "and how are you?
Has the time seemed very long while we were away ?" "Oh no, thank you, Aunt Grizzel," replied Griselda, "not at all.

I've been quite happy, and my cold's ever so much better, and my headache's _quite_ gone." "Come, that is good news," said Miss Grizzel.

"Not that I'm exactly _surprised_," she continued, turning to Miss Tabitha, "for there really is nothing like tansy tea for a feverish cold." "Nothing," agreed Miss Tabitha; "there really is nothing like it." "Aunt Grizzel," said Griselda, after a few moments' silence, "was my grandmother quite young when she died ?" "Yes, my love, very young," replied Miss Grizzel with a change in her voice.
"And was her husband _very_ sorry ?" pursued Griselda.
"Heart-broken," said Miss Grizzel.