olation of a wrecked old age? You think because you see about me
the evidences of wealth, that I must be happy. Young man, I tell you
truly, I would gladly give up every farthing of my princely fortune,
and be reduced to the extreme of want, to bring back from the grave
the dear ones lying there, or pour into my veins one drop of the
bounding blood of health and energy which used to make life a long
play-hour of delight. Once, no child in the fields, no bird in the
sky, was more blessed than I; and what am I now?--a sickly, lonely old
woman, whose nerves are shattered and whose heart is broken, without
hope or happiness on the earth! Even death has passed me by in
forgetfulness and scorn!'

Her voice betrayed the truth of her emotion. Still, with an accent of
bitterness and complaint, rather than of simple sorrow, it was the
voice of one fighting against her fate, more than of one suffering
acutely and in despair: it was petulant rather than melancholy; angry
rather than grieving; shewing that her trials had hardened, not
softened her heart.

'Listen to me,' she then said, laying her hand on my arm, 'and perhaps
my history may reconcile you to the childish depression, from what
cause soever it may be, under which you are labouring. You are young
and strong, and can bear any amount of pain as yet: wait until you
reach my age, and then you will know the true meaning of the word
despair! I am rich, as you may see,' she continued, pointing to her
surroundings--'in truth, so rich that I take no account either of my
income or my expenditure. I have never known life under any other
form; I have never known what it was to be denied the gratification of
one desire which wealth could purchase, or obliged to calculate the
cost of a single undertaking. I can scarcely realise the idea of
poverty. I see that all people do not live in the same style as
myself, but I cannot understand that it is from inability: it always
seems to me to be from their own disinclination. I tell you, I cannot
fully realise the idea of poverty; and you think this must make me
happy, perhaps?' she added sharply, looking full in my face.

'I should be happy, madam, if I were rich,' I replied. 'Suffering now
from the strain of poverty, it is no marvel if I place an undue value
on plenty.'

'Yet see what it does for me!' continued my companion. 'Does it give
me back my husband, my brave boys, my beautiful girl? Does it give
rest to this weary heart, or re