own and beginning to
sob weakly, with her head resting on the sill of the carriage-window.
"Oh, what have we not been through together, we two! Piece by piece I
have sold all."

I am good-hearted enough, but I do not like to have old women weeping
across my carriage-door. I suggested, therefore, that she should come
inside and let me take her home. Her shabby old skirt was soon beside
me, and, following her directions, the driver turned toward one of the
most wretched quarters of the city, the abode of poverty, crowded and
unclean. Here, in a large bare chamber up many flights of stairs, I
found Miss Grief.

As I entered I was startled: I thought she was dead. There seemed no
life present until she opened her eyes, and even then they rested upon
us vaguely, as though she did not know who we were. But as I approached
a light came into them: she recognized me, and this sudden
revivification, this return of the soul to the almost deserted bod, was
the most wonderful thing I ever saw. "You have good news of the drama?"
she whispered as I bent over her: "tell me. I _know_ you have good
news."

What was I to answer? Pray, what would you have answered, puritan?

"Yes, I have good news, Aaronna," I said. "The drama will appear." (And
who knows? Perhaps it will in some other world.)

She smiled, and her now brilliant eyes did not leave my face.

"He knows I'm your aunt: I told him," said the old woman, coming to the
bedside.

"Did you?" whispered Miss Grief, still gazing at me with a smile. "Then
please, dear Aunt Martha, give me something to eat."

Aunt Martha hurried across the room, and I followed her. "It's the
first time she's asked for food in weeks," she said in a husky tone.

She opened a cupboard-door vaguely, but I could see nothing within.
"What have you for her?" I asked with some impatience, though in a low
voice.

"Please God, nothing!" answered the poor old woman, hiding her reply
and her tears behind the broad cupboard-door. "I was going out to get a
little something when I met you."

"Good Heavens! is it money you need? Here, take this and send; or go
yourself in the carriage waiting below."

She hurried out breathless, and I went back to the bedside, much
disturbed by what I had seen and heard. But Miss Grief's eyes were full
of life, and as I sat down beside her she whispered earnestly, "Tell
me."

And I did tell her--a romance invented for the occasion. I venture to
say that none of my publi