ad not been
used since, there was not a mite of dust under it last time. And Kate
assured her, with an appearance of great wisdom, that she did not think
it could be necessary at all.

"I come home and had a good cry yesterday after I was over to see you,"
said Mrs. Patton, and I could not help wondering if she really could
cry, for she looked so perfectly dried up, so dry that she might rustle
in the wind. "Your aunt had been failin' so long that just after she
died it was a relief, but I've got so's to forget all about that, and I
miss her as she used to be; it seemed as if you had stepped into her
place, and you look some as she used to when she was young."

"You must miss her," said Kate, "and I know how much she used to depend
upon you. You were very kind to her."

"I sat up with her the night she died," said the widow, with mournful
satisfaction. "I have lived neighbor to her all my life except the
thirteen years I was married, and there wasn't a week I wasn't over to
the great house except I was off to a distance taking care of the sick.
When she got to be feeble she always wanted me to 'tend to the cleaning
and to see to putting the canopies and curtains on the bedsteads, and
she wouldn't trust nobody but me to handle some of the best china. I
used to say, 'Miss Katharine, why don't you have some young folks come
and stop with you? There's Mis' Lancaster's daughter a growing up'; but
she didn't seem to care for nobody but your mother. You wouldn't believe
what a hand she used to be for company in her younger days. Surprisin'
how folks alters. When I first rec'lect her much she was as straight as
an arrow, and she used to go to Boston visiting and come home with the
top of the fashion. She always did dress elegant. It used to be gay
here, and she was always going down to the Lorimers' or the Carews' to
tea, and they coming here. Her sister was married; she was a good deal
older; but some of her brothers were at home. There was your grandfather
and Mr. Henry. I don't think she ever got it over,--his disappearing so.
There were lots of folks then that's dead and gone, and they used to
have their card-parties, and old Cap'n Manning--he's dead and gone--used
to have 'em all to play whist every fortnight, sometimes three or four
tables, and they always had cake and wine handed round, or the cap'n
made some punch, like's not, with oranges in it, and lemons; _he_ knew
how! He was a bachelor to the end of his days, the