It is to the child's credit that she did not save herself expense by bringing down another and more costly kind of fan from up-stairs, but was content to act upon the impression that her mother desired the Japanese kind--content to accomplish the desire and stop with that, without troubling about the wisdom or unwisdom of it.
Sometimes, while she was still a child, her speech fell into quaint and strikingly expressive forms.

Once--aged nine or ten--she came to her mother's room, when her sister Jean was a baby, and said Jean was crying in the nursery, and asked if she might ring for the nurse.

Her mother asked: "Is she crying hard ?"--meaning cross, ugly.
"Well, no, mamma.

It is a weary, lonesome cry." It is a pleasure to me to recall various incidents which reveal the delicacies of feeling that were so considerable a part of her budding character.

Such a revelation came once in a way which, while creditable to her heart, was defective in another direction.