Our father, and our mother, and our brother, all died of fever, nearly five years ago.

We shall never see them again till we go to Paradise, and that is one reason why we wish to try to be good and never to be naughty, so that we may be sure to see them again.
I remember them a little.

I remember being frightened by sitting so high up on my father's shoulder, and then feeling so safe when I got into my mother's lap; and I remember Robin's curls, and his taking my woolly ball from me.

I remember our black frocks coming in the hair-trunk with brass nails to the seaside, where Margery and I were with our nurse, and her telling the landlady that our father and mother and brother were all laid in one grave.

And I remember going home, and seeing the stone flags up in the yard, and a deep dark hole near the pump, and thinking that was the grave; and how Margery found me stark with fright, and knew better, and told me that the grave was in the churchyard, and that this hole was only where workmen had been digging for drains.
And then never seeing those three, day after day, and having to do without them ever since! But Margery remembers a good deal more (she is three years older than I am).