Then I understood why she could not see her great, great grandmother, and, with a feeling of compassion for her loneliness, I took the old lady into my arms. Miss B—— went to the sink to peel some potatoes.

“You’re perfectly beautiful,” I whispered, and her old face wrinkled all over with smiles.

“They used to tell me that when I was a girl,” said she.

“You’re more beautiful now,” said I.

“What’s that you’re saying?” asked Miss B—— over her shoulder.

“What I should have said,” said I, “if I’d lived two hundred years ago.”


XVI
THE NEW MALADY