id, after that ravishing
performance, that my story will sound tame enough."

"It will be a different sort of melody," said the Mistress of the House,
looking fondly at her daughter.

"My heroine," began the young lady, "cannot appear in the first person,
as if she were telling the story; nor in the second person, as if she
were listening to one; nor in the third person, as if she were
somewhere else; for, in fact, she was not anywhere. And as there is no
such thing as a fourth person in grammar, she cannot be put into any
class at all."

The captain turned and looked at his daughter. "There seems to be
something very foggy about this statement," said he. "I hope the weather
will soon clear up, so we can get our bearings."

"We shall see about that," said the young lady. "This heroine of mine,
Miss Amanda, never went to sleep. To be sure, she sank into slumber
about as often as most people; but when she spoke of having done so
she always said she had 'lost consciousness.' She was very methodical
about going to sleep and waking up; and at night, just as she was
about to lose consciousness, she always said to herself, 'Seven
o'clock, seven o'clock, seven o'clock,' over and over again until she
was really asleep; and in the morning she woke up at seven precisely.
She was not married, and so she was able to live her own life much
more independently than if the case had been different. She liked to
be independent; and she liked to know as much as she could about
everything. In these two things she was generally very successful. But
you must not think she was prying or too inquisitive; she was really a
very good woman, and very fond of her family, which was composed
entirely of brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces.

"She was a very active person, but she was not very strong; and when she
was nearly forty years old something happened to her lungs, and her
health gave way more and more, until at last there was no hope for her,
and she knew she must die."

"Oh, this is an awful way to begin a story!" said the captain. "I don't
like it. You ought not to kill your heroine just as you begin."

"If you want to make any remarks about this story, papa," said the
Daughter of the House, "which shall be worth anything, you ought to wait
until you hear more of it and begin to understand it. When Miss Amanda
found she had a very little while to live, she composed herself
comfortably, and began to repeat to herself the words,