elderly, if anythin', I should say." He added, merely to generalise
the conversation, and make talk:--"Now this here old lady in the country
she's maybe ten years younger than our Mrs. Prichard, but she's what you
might call getting on in years."

"Prichard," said Gwen, for Sister Nora's ear. "I thought it couldn't be
Picture."

"Prichard, of course! How funny we didn't think of it--so obvious!"

"Very--when one knows! I think I like Picture best."

Aunt M'riar, not to be out of the conversation, took a formal exception
to Uncle Mo's remark:--"The ladies they know how old Old Mrs. Marrable
in the country is, without your telling of 'em, Mo."

"Right you are, M'riar! But they don't know nothing about old Mrs.
Prichard." Uncle Mo had spoken at a guess of Mrs. Marrowbone's age, of
which he knew nothing. It was a sort of emulation that had made him
assess _his_ old lady as the senior. He felt vulnerable, and changed the
conversation. "That young Squire's taking his time, M'riar. Supposin'
now I was just to sing out to him?"

But both ladies exclaimed against Dave being hurried away from his old
lady. Besides, they wanted to know some more about her--what sort of
classification hers would be, and so on. There were stumbling-blocks in
this path. Better keep clear of classes--stick to generalities, and hope
for lucky chances!

"What made Dave think the old souls so much alike, Mrs. Wardle?" said
Sister Nora. "Children are generally so sharp to see differences."

"It was a kind of contradictiousness, ma'am, no better I do think,
merely for to set one of 'em alongside the other, and look at." Aunt
M'riar did not really mean contradictiousness, and can hardly have meant
_contradistinction_, as that word was not in her vocabulary. We incline
to look for its origin in the first six letters, which it enjoys in
common with contrariwise and contrast. This, however, is Philology, and
doesn't matter. Let Aunt M'riar go on.

"Now just you think how alike old persons do get, by reason of change.
'Tain't any fault of their own. Mrs. Prichard she's often by way of
inquiring about Mrs. Marrowbone, and I should say she rather takes her
to heart."

"How's that, Mrs. Wardle? Why 'takes her to heart'?" A joint question of
the ladies.

"Well--now you ask me--I should say Mrs. Prichard she wants the child
all to herself." Aunt M'riar's assumption that this inquiry had been
made without suggestion on her own part was unwarranted.

"_