own and wait till Madam's eyes require another new pair."

"But can't we write for some for you, Nursey, as Granny did?"

"Well, now! Just as if they had my name and my number in Dublin, same as
your gran'mama's, an' her a great lady! Sure, poor people do have to walk
into a shop, and just try and try till they get a pair to fit them."

Terry sat on the old woman's knee, and threw her arms round her neck.

"I'll darn the stockings, and sew on the strings and buttons, and read your
prayer-book to you, and read the newspaper to you after Grandma has done
with it. Is there anything else I can do for you, Nursey darling?"

"Nothing in the world, except try to be good an' keep out of mischief, Miss
Terry."

"But I do so want to be good always, Nancy. And I never would be in
mischief if I knew it was mischief. It looks so right while I'm doing it,
and I don't know how it can be that all of a sudden it goes wrong--"

"Not all of a suddent, Miss Terry. It's always wrong from the beginning
with you. If you would only stop and ask your elders at first 'Is this
wrong?' before you go at it--"

"But I couldn't do that, unless I had an idea that it was going to be
wrong, even perhaps. It always seems to me the rightest, sweetest,
loveliest thing in the world--"

"Now, Terry, how can you look me in the face and say you thought it was
right to take a big, wet, lumbering watch-dog out of his kennel on a wet
day and bring him upstairs to your nursery, dripping his wet over
everything, and then dress him up--"

"Oh, Nancy!" cried Terry, splitting into laughter and putting her hands
before her face. "Oh, now, wasn't it simply deliciously funny? If you had
only been there before he jumped! His eyes were so sweet under your frills,
and his paws were so enchanting coming out of your sleeves. And if it
hadn't been for your spectacles--Now, tell me a story, Nancy, till it is
time to go to Gran'ma."

Terry was so true to her word, did so much reading and stitching and
searching about for little things that were lost, that Granny and Nancy
agreed to think her real conversion had begun through the breaking of the
spectacles. For Nancy had allowed Terry to confess to having broken the
glasses, though she would not have dear old Madam disturbed by a
description of the pranks with the dog. So long as Nursey had to go groping
about as if in the dark, putting her nose to the carpet in search of the
dressing-comb she had dropped out of her ha