es of life. She was hurried down one or two long passages, then
through a big room, empty at present, which the matron briefly told her
was the "Able-bodied Women's Ward," and then into another very large
room, where a bright fire burnt, and where several women, perhaps fifty
or sixty, were seated on benches, doing some light jobs of needlework,
or pretending to read, or openly dozing away their time. They were all
dressed just like Grannie, and took little or no notice when she came
in. She was only one more failure, to join the failures in the room.
These old women were all half dead, and another old woman was coming to
share their living grave. The matron said something hastily, and shut
the door behind her. Grannie looked round; an almost wild light lit up
her blue eyes for a moment, then it died out, and she went softly and
quietly across the room.

"Ef you are cold, ma'am, perhaps you'll like to set by the fire," said
an old body who must have been at least ten years Grannie's senior.

"Thank you, ma'am, I'll be much obleeged," said Grannie, and she sat
down.

Her bath had, through some neglect, not been properly heated; it had
chilled her, and all of a sudden she felt tired, old, and feeble, and a
long shiver ran down her back. She held out her left hand to the
blaze. A few of the most active of the women approached slowly, and
either stood and looked at her, or sat down as near her as possible.
She had very lately come from life; they were most of them accustomed
to death. Their hearts were feebly stirred with a kind of dim
interest, but the life such as Grannie knew was dull and far off to
them.

"This is a poor sort of place, ma'am," said one of them.

Grannie roused herself with a great effort.

"Ef I begin to grumble I am lost," she said stoutly to herself. "Well,
now, it seems to me a fine airy room," she said. "It is all as it
strikes a body, o' course," she added, very politely; "but the room
seems to me lofty."

"You aint been here long, anybody can see that," said an old woman of
the name of Peters, with a sniff. "Wait till you live here day after
day, with nothin' to do, and nothin' to think of, and nothin' to hear,
and nothin' to read, and, you may say, nothin' to eat."

"Dear me," said Grannie, "don't they give us our meals?"

"Ef you like to _call_ 'em such," said Mrs. Peters, with a sniff. And
all the other women sniffed too. And when Mrs. Peters emphasized her
condemnation