"Did she wish to see me?" asked Gertrude. "Poor old thing! I'll go and see her this very afternoon; and you needn't feel anxious about me, Mrs. Prime—I am quite well."
Gertrude went. She found Miss Patty nearly bent double with rheumatism, dressed with less than her usual care, and crouching over a miserable fire. She was in tolerable spirits, and hailed Gertrude's entrance by a cordial greeting. Innumerable were the questions she put to Gertrude regarding her own personal experiences during the past year.
"So you have not yet chosen a companion," said she, after Gertrude had responded to all her queries. "That is a circumstance to be regretted. Not," continued she, with a little smirk, "that it is ever too late in life for one to meditate the conjugal tie, which is often assumed with advantage by persons of fifty or more; and certainly you, who are still in the bloom of your days, need not despair of a youthful swain. Existence is twofold when it is shared with a congenial partner; and I had hoped that before now, Miss Gertrude, both you and myself would have formed such an alliance; for the protection of the matrimonial union is one of its greatest advantages."
"I hope you have not suffered from the want of it," said Gertrude.
"I have, Miss Gertrude, suffered incalculably. But the keenest pangs have been the sensibilities; yes, the sensibilities—the finest part of our nature, and that which will least bear wounding."
"I am sorry to hear that you have been thus grieved," said Gertrude. "I should have supposed that, living alone, you might have been spared this trial."
"Oh, Miss Gertrude!" exclaimed the old lady, lifting up both hands, and speaking in a pitiable tone—"Oh, that I had the wings of a dove, wherewith to fly away from my kindred! I fondly thought to have distanced them, but during the past year they have discovered my retreat, and I cannot elude their vigilance. Hardly can I recover from the shock of one visitation—made for the sole purpose of taking an inventory of my possessions and measuring the length of my days—before the vultures are again seen hovering round my dwelling. But," exclaimed she, raising her voice and chuckling as she spoke, "they shall fall into their own snare; for I will dupe every one of them yet!"
"I was not aware that you had any relations," said Gertrude; "and it seems they are such only in name."
"Name!" said Miss Pace, emphatically. "I am glad at the thought that they are not honoured with a cognomen which not one of them is worthy to bear. No, they pass by a different name—a name as plebeian as their own coarse souls. Three of them stand to each other in a fraternal relation, yet they are alike hateful to me. One, a contemptible coxcomb, comes here to overawe me with his presence, which he conceives to be imposing; calls me aunt—aunt; thus testifying by his speech to a consanguinity which he blindly fancies makes him nearer akin to my property!" The old lady almost shrieked the last word. "And the other two are beggars! always were—always will be; let 'em be—I'm glad of it!"
"You hear me, Miss Gertrude; you are a young lady of quick comprehension, and I will avail myself of your contiguity, which, although you deny the charge, may shortly be interrupted by some eager lover, to request at your hands a favour, such as I little thought once I should ever feel compelled to seek. I sent for you to write (Miss Patty whispered) the last will and testament of Miss Patty Pace."