o in old times,
when I first came here. I was quite a child then," continued she, with a
sigh.

"Gracious me! What are you now?" said Mrs. Prime. "For mercy's sake,
Miss Gertrude, don't you begin to think about growin' old. There's
nothin' like feelin' young to keep young. There's Miss Patty Pace,
now----"

"I have been meaning to ask after her," exclaimed Gertrude; "is she
alive and well yet?"

"She!" replied Mrs. Prime; "Lor', she won't never die! Old women like
her, that feel themselves young gals, allers live for ever; but the
baker's boy that fetched the loaves this mornin' brought an arrant from
her, and she wants to see you the first chance; but I wouldn't hurry
either about goin' there or anywhere, Miss Gertrude, till I got rested;
for you an't well, you look so kind o' tired out."

"Did she wish to see me?" asked Gertrude. "Poor old thing! I'll go and
see her this very afternoon; and you needn't feel anxious about me, Mrs.
Prime--I am quite well."

Gertrude went. She found Miss Patty nearly bent double with rheumatism,
dressed with less than her usual care, and crouching over a miserable
fire. She was in tolerable spirits, and hailed Gertrude's entrance by a
cordial greeting. Innumerable were the questions she put to Gertrude
regarding her own personal experiences during the past year.

"So you have not yet chosen a companion," said she, after Gertrude had
responded to all her queries. "That is a circumstance to be regretted.
Not," continued she, with a little smirk, "that it is ever too late in
life for one to meditate the conjugal tie, which is often assumed with
advantage by persons of fifty or more; and certainly you, who are still
in the bloom of your days, need not despair of a youthful swain.
Existence is twofold when it is shared with a congenial partner; and I
had hoped that before now, Miss Gertrude, both you and myself would have
formed such an alliance; for the protection of the matrimonial union is
one of its greatest advantages."

"I hope you have not suffered from the want of it," said Gertrude.

"I have, Miss Gertrude, suffered incalculably. But the keenest pangs
have been the sensibilities; yes, the sensibilities--the finest part of
our nature, and that which will least bear wounding."

"I am sorry to hear that you have been thus grieved," said Gertrude. "I
should have supposed that, living alone, you might have been spared this
trial."

"Oh, Miss Gertrude!" exclaimed the old lady,