"Yes. Well, I should have thought that that was just the thing to keep you young."
"It is. That's the tragedy of it. I used to BE young; now I KEEP young. And I used to say, 'I'll insure my life SOME day'; but now I think about doing it to-day. When once you stop saying 'some day' you're getting old, you know."
"Some day," said Miss Middleton, "you must tell me all about the Crimea. Not now," she went on quickly, "because you're going to do something very silly in a moment, if I can think of it—something to convince yourself that you are still quite young."
"Yes, do let me. I really think it would do me good."
"Well, what can you do?"
"Can I break anything?" I asked, looking round the room.
"I really don't think you must. Mother's very silly about things like that. I'm SO sorry; father and I would love it, of course."
"Can I go into the kitchen and frighten the cook?"
Miss Middleton sighed mournfully.
"ISN'T it a shame," she said, "that mothers object to all the really nice things?"