an
incapable like yourself. There, I can't waste any more time with you."

The matron hurried away, and Grannie went back to her seat by the fire,
in the company of the other old women. They were curious to know what
the doctor had said to her, and when she told them they shook their
heads and groaned, and said they all knew that would be the case.

"No one _h_advanced in life gets better here," said Mrs. Peters; "and
you are _h_advanced in life, aint you, ma'am?"

"Not so very," replied Grannie indignantly. She felt quite young
beside most of the other old paupers.

"Well now, I calc'late you're close on eighty," said Mrs. Peters.

"Indeed, you are mistook," replied Grannie. "I aint seventy yet. I'm
jest at the age when it is no expense at all to live, so to speak. I
were sixty-eight last November, and no one can call that old. At least
not to say very old."

"You look seventy-eight at the very least," said most of the women.
They nodded and gave Grannie some solemn, queer glances. They all saw
a change in her which she did not know anything about herself. She had
aged quite ten years since yesterday.

The one variety in the old women's lives was their meals. Dinner came
at half-past twelve, and supper at six. All the huge old family went
up to bed sharp at eight. There could not possibly be a more dreary
life than theirs. As the days passed on, Grannie recovered from her
first sense of chill and misery, and a certain portion of her brave
spirit returned. It was one of the rules of the workhouse that the
pauper women of over sixty might go out every Sunday from half-past
twelve to six. They might also go out for the same number of hours on
Thursday. Those who were in sufficiently good health always availed
themselves of this outing, and Grannie herself looked forward quite
eagerly to Sunday. She scarcely slept on Saturday night for thinking
of this time of freedom. She had obtained permission to wear her own
neat dress, and she put it on with untold pride and satisfaction on
this Sunday morning. Once again some of the spirit of the Simpsons and
Phippses came into her. She left the workhouse quite gayly.

"I feel young again," she murmured to herself as she heard the ugly
gates clang behind her.

She walked down the road briskly, took an omnibus, and by and by found
herself at Bayswater. She had asked Alison to wait in for her, telling
the girl that she might be able to pay her a little vi