-piece, and currants may be had for the
gathering," observed Mrs Jane, sententiously.

"They give me a pain in my side!" moaned the invalid.

"Well, the oranges would give you a pain in your purse. I'd rather have
one in my side, if I were you."

"You don't know what it is to be ill!" said Mrs Marcella, closing her
eyes.

"Don't I? I've had both small-pox and spotted fever."

"So long ago!"

"Bless you, child! I'm not Methuselah!" said Mrs Jane.

"Well, I think you might be, Jane, for really, the way in which you can
sit up all night, and look as fresh as a daisy in the morning, when you
have not had a wink of sleep, and I am perfectly worn-out with
suffering--just skin and bone, and no more--"

"There's a little tongue left, I reckon!" said Mrs Jane.

"The way she will get up and go to market, my dears, after such a night
as that," pursued Mrs Marcella, who always ran on her own line of
rails, and never shunted to avoid collision; "you never saw anything
like her--the amount she can bear! She's as tough as a rhinoceros, and
as strong as an elephant, and as wanting in feeling as--as--"

"A sensitive plant," popped in Mrs Jane. "Now, Marcella, open your
mouth and shut your eyes, and take this."

"Is it castor oil?" faintly screamed the invalid, endeavouring to
protect herself.

"Stuff! 'Tis good Tent wine. Take it and be thankful."

"Where did you get it, Jane?"

"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said Mrs Jane. "It
was honestly come by."

"Well, I think we must be going, Mrs Marcella," said Rhoda, rising.

"Oh, my dear! Must you, really? And so seldom as you come to see a
poor thing like me, who hasn't a living creature to care for her--except
Jane, of course, and she doesn't, not one bit! Dear! And to think that
I was once a pretty young maid, with a little fortune of my own; and
there was many a young gentleman, my dear, that would have given his
right hand for no more than a smile from me--"

"Heyday! how this world is given to lying!" interpolated Mrs Jane.

"And we were a large family then--eight of us, my dear; and now they are
all dead, and I am left quite alone, except Jane, you know. Oh dear,
dear, but to think of it! But there is no thankfulness in the world,
nor kindness neither. The people I have been good to! and now that I
have _come down_ a little, to see how they treat me! Jane doesn't mind
it; she has no tender feelings at all; she can stand all thing