Missus Astor was your handmaid. She was sweeter than petushok¹ and harder than steel. She was a absolute Saint.

You were going through old photos with her, and a wave of sadness hit you. She took notice of that and instantly was at your side.

"My dear what's wrong? Why are you upset?" She gently wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you close to herself.

(1= a russian/slavic hard candy made of sugar in a rooster shape.)