JUDGE SANDS AND KATE MARRY
In November Kate was married. The wedding was quiet, as Patty was still
an invalid. They took her with them and left her at Mrs. Hollister’s
while they went on their trip. Nora had arrived for the winter two weeks
before. Mrs. Hollister had entered her in Madam La Rue’s school. Ethel
had insisted upon giving Nora her room and had moved up stairs.
The three girls were sad. They talked of Mattie and Patty cried
constantly. So after a while they avoided speaking of her in her
presence.
Nora looked like one to the manner born. Mrs. Hollister, having carte
blanche to buy for her anything she saw fit, purchased the loveliest
second mourning costumes imaginable, and Nora wore them remarkably well.
She had grown more quiet since Mattie’s death. A great change seemed to
have come over her. She was one of Madam’s brightest pupils and very
popular. Mrs. Hollister was genuinely fond of her and they went
everywhere together.
When Mr. Casey came to New York he was surprised at the change. He’d say
to Mrs. Hollister:
“Faith, ma’am, it’s a perfect lady you’re afther makin’ of my girl. Her
mother would bless you were she here,” and Mrs. Hollister would reply:
“She is naturally a perfect lady, Mr. Casey, so it’s not hard work. I
consider Nora a very superior girl and I’m very fond of her,” at which
the father’s eyes would grow half tearful, and he’d seem proud to hear
it.
Nannie Bigelow and Nora became very intimate and she was made much of by
Dorothy Kip and Sara Judson. Nora took an active interest in the Day
Nursery and donated generously for its maintenance. Twice a week she’d
go and read to the elder children and get on the floor and play with the
younger ones, for she adored babies. She was especially sweet and
generous to Grandmother, spending hours with her lest she should become
lonely. It was like a mother and daughter, instead of a girl and
chaperon, to see Mrs. Hollister and Nora go about together.
“I wish I had a son, Nora,” said that lady one day. “Then I should never
have to see you leave me.”
Nora blushed rosy red, saying:
“I wish you had, Mrs. Hollister. I dislike to think of our separation.”
Mr. Casey sent the most wonderful barrels of apples and potatoes from
his own place to the Hollisters, and when he came to New York he’d order
fruit from the most expensive fruiterers to be sent three times a week,
say nothing of boxes of flowers which came regularly throughout the
entire winter.
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