Mrs. Keyton-Wells wo n't snub me next time we meet . And some way I do n't think your father will turn you out , either . Have you forgiven me yet , Burton ? '' `` I shall never call you anything but Nelly , '' said Winslow irrelevantly . The Red Room You would have me tell you the story , Grandchild ? 'T is a sad one and best forgotten -- few remember it now . There are always sad and dark stories in old families such as ours . Yet I have promised and must keep my word . So sit down here at my feet and rest your bright head on my lap , that I may not see in your young eyes the shadows my story will bring across their bonny blue . I was a mere child when it all happened , yet I remember it but too well , and I can recall how pleased I was when my father 's stepmother , Mrs. Montressor -- she not liking to be called grandmother , seeing she was but turned of fifty and a handsome woman still -- wrote to my mother that she must send little Beatrice up to Montressor Place for the Christmas holidays . So I went joyfully though my mother grieved to part with me ; she had little to love save me , my father , Conrad Montressor , having been lost at sea when but three months wed. . My aunts were wont to tell me how much I resembled him , being , so they said , a Montressor to the backbone ; and this I took to mean commendation , for the Montressors were a well-descended and well-thought-of family , and the women were noted for their beauty . This I could well believe , since of all my aunts there was not one but was counted a pretty woman . Therefore I took heart of grace when I thought of my dark face and spindling shape , hoping that when I should be grown up I might be counted not unworthy of my race . The Place was an old-fashioned , mysterious house , such as I delighted in , and Mrs. Montressor was ever kind to me , albeit a little stern , for she was a proud woman and cared but little for children , having none of her own . But there were books there to pore over without let or hindrance -- for nobody questioned of my whereabouts if I but kept out of the way -- and strange , dim family portraits on the walls to gaze upon , until I knew each proud old face well , and had visioned a history for it in my own mind -- for I was given to dreaming and was older and wiser than my years , having no childish companions to keep me still a child . There were always some of my aunts at the Place to kiss and make much of me for my father 's sake -- for he had been their favourite brother . My aunts -- there were eight of them -- had all married well , so said people who knew , and lived not far away , coming home often to take tea with Mrs. Montressor , who had always gotten on well with her step-daughters , or to help prepare for some festivity or other -- for they were notable housekeepers , every one . They were all at Montressor Place for Christmas , and I got more petting than I deserved , albeit they looked after me somewhat more strictly than did Mrs. Montressor , and saw to it that I did not read too many fairy tales or sit up later at nights than became my years . But it was not for fairy tales and sugarplums nor yet for petting that I rejoiced to be at the Place at that time .
Though I spoke not of it XXXXX anyone , I had a great longing to see my Uncle Hugh 's wife , concerning whom I had heard much , both good and bad .
albeit as at in of on so that though to