Rachel: The whole thing was strange, wasn’t it?
Mrs. Loving: Yes, God’s ways are strange and often very beautiful; perhaps all would be beautiful—if we only understood.
Rachel: God’s ways are certainly very mysterious. Why, of all the people in this apartment-house, should Jimmy’s father and mother be the only two to take the smallpox, and the only two to die. It’s queer!
Mrs. Loving: It doesn’t seem like two years ago, does it?
Rachel: Two years, Ma dear! Why it’s three the third of January.
Mrs. Loving: Are you sure, Rachel?
Rachel (Gently): I don’t believe I could ever forget that, Ma dear.
Mrs. Loving: No, I suppose not. That is one of the differences between youth and old age—youth attaches tremendous importance to dates,—old age does not.
Rachel (Quickly): Ma dear, don’t talk like that. You’re not old.
Mrs. Loving: Oh! yes, I am, dearie. It’s sixty long years since I was born; and I am much older than that, much older.