ead, mumbling: "Oh, no, no, no, no----"

"And now, what can you tell me, sir?" she said, breaking in upon his
dribbling speech. "I am just as curious as I can be. That dear little old
lady! Why is she in uncle's house?"

"Ah, Miss! I fancy she will not be there for long, but she was an
encumbrance upon it when Mr. Willets Starkweather came with his family to
occupy it."

"What _do_ you mean?" cried the girl.

"Mary Boyle served in the Starkweather family long, long ago. Before I
came to valet for Mr. Cornelius, Mary Boyle had her own room and was a
fixture in the house. Mr. Cornelius took her more--more philosophically,
as you might say, Miss. My present master and his daughters look upon poor
Mary Boyle as a nuisance. They have to allow her to remain. She is a life
charge upon the estate--that, indeed, was fixed before Mr. Cornelius's
time. But the present family are ashamed of her. Perhaps I ought not to
say it, but it is true. They have relegated her to a suite upon the top
floor, and other people have quite forgotten Mary Boyle--yes, oh, yes,
indeed! Quite forgotten her--quite forgotten her----"

Then, with the aid of some questioning, Helen heard the whole sad story of
Mary Boyle, who was a nurse girl in the family of the older generation of
Starkweathers. It was in her arms the last baby of the family had panted
his weakly little life out. She, too, had watched by the bed of the lady
of the mansion, who had borne these unfortunate children only to see them
die.

And Mary Boyle was one of that race who often lose their own identity in
the families they serve. She had loved the lost babies as though they had
been of her own flesh. She had walked the little passage at the back of
the house (out of which had opened the nursery in those days) so many,
many nights with one or the other of her fretful charges, that by and by
she thought, at night, that she had them yet to soothe.

Mary Boyle, the weak-minded yet harmless ex-nurse, had been cherished by
her old master. And in his will he had left her to the care of Mr.
Cornelius, the heir. In turn she had been left a life interest in the
mansion--to the extent of shelter and food and proper clothes--when
Willets Starkweather became proprietor.

He could not get rid of the old lady. But, when he refurnished the house
and made it over, he had banished Mary Boyle to the attic rooms. The girls
were ashamed of her. She sometimes talked loudly if company was about. And