'Ah! The day was,' said the Doctor, looking at the fire, 'when you
and he, Grace, used to trot about arm-in-arm, in his holiday time,
like a couple of walking dolls. You remember?'
'I remember,' she answered, with her pleasant laugh, and plying her
needle busily.
'This day month, indeed!' mused the Doctor. 'That hardly seems a
twelve month ago. And where was my little Marion then!'
'Never far from her sister,' said Marion, cheerily, 'however
little. Grace was everything to me, even when she was a young
child herself.'
'True, Puss, true,' returned the Doctor. 'She was a staid little
woman, was Grace, and a wise housekeeper, and a busy, quiet,
pleasant body; bearing with our humours and anticipating our
wishes, and always ready to forget her own, even in those times. I
never knew you positive or obstinate, Grace, my darling, even then,
on any subject but one.'
'I am afraid I have changed sadly for the worse, since,' laughed
Grace, still busy at her work. 'What was that one, father?'
'Alfred, of course,' said the Doctor. 'Nothing would serve you but
you must be called Alfred's wife; so we called you Alfred's wife;
and you liked it better, I believe (odd as it seems now), than
being called a Duchess, if we could have made you one.'
'Indeed?' said Grace, placidly.
'Why, don't you remember?' inquired the Doctor.
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