Explore "My New Home" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
No, perhaps I was rather hasty in saying I could now go straight on about what I remember myself. There are still a few things belonging to the time before I can remember, which I had better explain now, to keep it all in order.
I have spoken of grandmamma as being alone in the world, and so she was -- as far as having no one _very_ near her -- no other children, and not any brothers or sisters of her own. And on my mother's side I had no relations worth counting. Mamma was an only child, and her father had married again after _her_ mother died, and then, some years after, he died himself, and mamma's half-brothers and sisters had never even seen her, as they were out in India. So none of her relations have anything to do with my story or with _me_.