had been
shown through the house by my aunt Handyside in 1865, and I could
follow her mind wanderings and answer her questions. As she suffered so
little pain it was difficult for my mother to realize the seriousness
of her illness; and, tiring of her bedroom, she begged to be taken to
the study, where, with her reading and knitting, she had spent so many
happy hours while I did my writing. Delighted though she was at the
change, a return to her bed--as to all invalids--was a comfort, and she
never left it again. Miss Goodham--an English nurse and a charming
woman, who has since remained a friend and correspondent of the
family--was sent to help us for a few days at the last. Another sorrow
came to us at this time in the loss of my ward's husband, and Rose
Hood--nee Duval--returned to live near me with her three small
children. Her commercial training enabled her to take a position as
clerk in the State Children's Department, which she retained until her
death. The little ones were very sweet and good, but the supervision of
them during the day added a somewhat heavy responsibility to our
already overburdened household. In these days, when one hears so much
of the worthlessness of servants, it is a joy to remember how our
faithful maid--we kept only one for that large house--at her own
request, did all the laundry work for the family of five, and all
through the three years of Eleanor's illness waited on her with
untiring devotion.

An amusing episode which would have delighted the heart of my dear
friend Judge Lindsay occurred about this time. The fruit from our
orange trees which grew along the wall bordering an adjoining paddock
was an irresistible temptation to wandering juveniles, and many and
grievous were the depredations. Patience, long drawn out, at last gave
way, and when the milkman caught two delinquents one Saturday afternoon
with bulging blouses of forbidden fruit it became necessary to make an
example of some one. The trouble was to devise a fitting punishment. A
Police Court, I had always maintained, was no place for children;
corporal punishment was out of the question; and the culprits stood
tremblingly awaiting their fate till a young doctor present suggested a
dose of Gregory's powder. His lawyer friend acquiesced, and Gregory's
powder it was. A moment's hesitation and the nauseous draught was
swallowed to the accompaniment of openly expressed sympathy, one dear
old lady remarking, "Poor children an