Poor Amy was dead and buried.
With Emily she went marketing, and they beat down and bullied mankind.
Emily was so good at that.

And at home they worked out a schedule of housekeeping on a rigidly economical scale, dividing the work between them.

All this was rather pleasant.

The trouble came in the nursery, where more than once the face of the stricken woman there made it hard to keep one's mind keen and clear for all the intricate details of the careful mothering in this room, from which barely a sound had ever gone out to disturb the peace of Amy's home.
But it was soon over.

The nurse had taken her departure and Ethel had moved to the nursery.