As it was, I could not; I only put my hand to my burning cheek, and said: "Let me see!" I must certainly have presented a very comical appearance, but the little old lady's smiles died away, and her eyes filled with tears.
"It is strange, is it not," she said to Aunt Theresa, "that, after all, I should laugh at this meeting ?" Then, sitting down on a box by the door, she held out her hands to me, saying: "Come, little Margery, there is no sin in practising one's good manners before the mirror.

Come and kiss me, dear child; I am your father's father's mother.

Is not that to be an old woman?
I am your great-grandmother." My great-grandmother's voice was very soft, her cheek was soft, her cloak was soft.

I buried my face in the fur, and cried quietly to myself with shame and excitement; she stroking my head, and saying: "_Pauvre petite!_--thou an orphan, and I doubly childless! It is thus we meet at last to join our hands across the graves of two generations of those we love!" "It was a dreadful thing!" said Mrs.Buller, rummaging in her pocket for a clean handkerchief.

"I'm sure I never should forget it, if I lived a thousand years.