"Ah! but your face looks older, dear. What has been worrying you? Has Ada—"
"Ada has never worried me, as you know, Katie," interrupted Mrs. Liddell. "She is not exactly the companion I should choose for every day of my life, but she has always been kind and nice with me."
"Oh, she is not bad, and she would be clever if she managed to make you quarrel. I am quite different. Now I must get you some tea. Pray look round while I am gone, and see how comfortable it is;" and Katherine hurried away.
She soon returned, followed by Mrs. Knapp, who was glad to carry up the tea-tray to the pleasant, sensible lady who had engaged her for what proved to be not an uncomfortable situation. When, after a few civil words, she retired, with what delight and tender care Katie waited on her mother, putting a cushion at her back and a footstool under her feet, remembering her taste in sugar, her little weakness for cream!
"It was very warm in the omnibus, I suppose, for you are looking better already."
"I am better; but, Katherine, your uncle is curiously changed. It is not so much that he looks ill, but by comparison so alarmingly amiable."
"Well, he is less appalling than he was, and I have grown wonderfully accustomed to him. But for the monotony, it is not so bad as I expected, and it will be better now, as Mr. Newton is to give me the weekly money. I think my uncle is trying to live."
"Poor man! he has little to live for," said Mrs. Liddell.
"He wishes to outlive some other old man, because then he will get a good deal of money, according to some curious system—called a 'Tontine.'"
"Is it possible? The ruling passion, then, in his instance is strong against death."