gan to arrange their plans in
accordance with it, and to fit what she considered the necessities of
the situation. As a stand-point she prepared a history, which, in its
completeness, would have satisfied even herself as third person,
forgetting that the mental organizations of the Timloesville people were
probably not so well developed in the direction of a conscientious and
public-spirited inquiry into the affairs of their neighbors as were
those of the meritorious New England community where she had spent her
youth. In this history they were to be aunt and niece, of the same name,
which, after long cogitation, she decided should be Young, because it
had "a plain, respectable sound." She herself was to be a widow (could
it have been possible that, for once in her life, she wished to know,
even if but reminiscently, how the married state would feel?), and Anne
was to be her husband's niece. "Which will account for the lack of
resemblance," she said, fitting all the parts of her plan together like
those of a puzzle. She had even constructed an elaborate legend
concerning said husband, and its items she enumerated with relish. His
name, it appeared, had been Asher, and he had been something of a trial
to her, although at the last he had experienced religion, and died
thoroughly saved. His brother Eleazer, Anne's father, had been a very
different person, a sort of New England David. He had taught in an
academy, studied for the ministry, and died of "a galloping
consumption"--a consolation to all his friends. Miss Lois could describe
in detail both of these death-beds, and repeat the inscriptions on the
two tombstones. Her own name was Deborah, and Anne's was Ruth. On the
second day she evolved the additional item that Ruth was "worn out
keeping the accounts of an Asylum for the Aged, in Washington--which is
the farthest thing I can think of from teaching children in New
York--and I have brought you into the country for your health."

Anne was dismayed. "I shall certainly make some mistake in all this,"
she said.

"Not if you pay attention. And you can always say your head aches if you
don't want to talk. I am not sure but that you had better be threatened
with something serious," added Miss Lois, surveying her companion
consideringly. "It would have to be connected with the mind, because,
unfortunately, you always look the picture of health."

"Oh, please let me be myself," pleaded Anne.

"Never in the world," replied