ill not speak uncourteously, and you must remember me to
her kindly."

Then she asked us about other old people in Deephaven, and about
families in Boston whom she had known in her early days. I think every
one of whom she spoke was dead, but we assured her that they were all
well and prosperous, and we hoped we told the truth. She asked about the
love-affairs of men and women who had died old and gray-headed within
our remembrance; and finally she said we must pardon her for these
tiresome questions, but it was so rarely she saw any one direct from
Boston, of whom she could inquire concerning these old friends and
relatives of her family.

Something happened after this which touched us both inexpressibly: she
sat for some time watching Kate with a bewildered look, which at last
faded away, a smile coming in its place. "I think you are like my
mother," she said; "did any one ever say to you that you are like my
mother? Will you let me see your forehead? Yes; and your hair is only a
little darker." Kate had risen when Miss Chauncey did, and they stood
side by side. There was a tone in the old lady's voice which brought the
tears to my eyes. She stood there some minutes looking at Kate. I wonder
what her thoughts were. There was a kinship, it seemed to me, not of
blood, only that they both were of the same stamp and rank: Miss
Chauncey of the old generation and Kate Lancaster of the new. Miss
Chauncey turned to me, saying, "Look up at the portrait and you will see
the likeness too, I think." But when she turned and saw the bare
wainscoting of the room, she looked puzzled, and the bright flash which
had lighted up her face was gone in an instant, and she sat down again
in the window-seat; but we were glad that she had forgotten. Presently
she said, "Pardon me, but I forget your question."

Miss Carew had told us to ask her about her school-days, as she nearly
always spoke of that time to her; and, to our delight, Miss Sally told
us a long story about her friends and about her "coming-out party," when
boat-loads of gay young guests came down from Riverport, and all the
gentry from Deephaven. The band from the fort played for the dancing,
the garden was lighted, the card-tables were in this room, and a grand
supper was served. She also remembered what some of her friends wore,
and her own dress was a silver-gray brocade with rosebuds of three
colors. She told us how she watched the boats go off up river in the
middle of t