“Nor is there,” said the old bachelor, “else it would not have held together so many ages as it has. The establishment has its own wise, monkish regulations; but we cannot prevent the fact, that some of the brethren may have had foolish relations with the other sex at some previous period of their lives. This seems to be the case with our wise old friend of whom we have been speaking,--whereby he doubtless became both wiser and sadder. If you have seen a female face here, it is that of a relative who resides out of the hospital,--an excellent young lady, I believe, who has charge of a school.” While he was speaking, the young lady in question passed out, greeting the Warden in a cheerful, respectful way, in which deference to him was well combined with a sense of what was due to herself. “That,” observed the Warden, who had returned her courtesy, with a kindly air betwixt that of gentlemanly courtesy and a superior’s acknowledgment,--“that is the relative of our old friend; a young person--a gentlewoman, I may almost call her--who teaches a little school in the village here, and keeps her guardian’s heart warm, no doubt, with her presence. An excellent young woman, I do believe, and very useful and faithful in her station.” CHAPTER XVI. On entering the old palmer’s apartment, they found him looking over some ancient papers, yellow and crabbedly written, and on one of them a large old seal, all of which he did up in a bundle and enclosed in a parchment cover, so that, before they were well in the room, the documents were removed from view. “Those papers and parchments have a fine old yellow tint, Colcord,” said the Warden, “very satisfactory to an antiquary.” “There is nothing in them,” said the old man, “of general interest. Some old papers they are, which came into my possession by inheritance, and some of them relating to the affairs of a friend of my youth;--a long past time, and a long past friend,” added he, sighing. “Here is a new friend, at all events,” said the kindly Warden, wishing to cheer the old man, “who feels himself greatly indebted to you for your care.” [Endnote: 1.] There now ensued a conversation between the three, in the course of which reference was made to America, and the Warden’s visit there. “You are so mobile,” he said, “you change so speedily, that I suppose there are few external things now that I should recognize. The face of your country changes like one of your own sheets of water, under the influence of sun, cloud, and wind; but I suppose there is a depth below that is seldom effectually stirred. It is a great fault of the country that its sons find it impossible to feel any patriotism for it.” “I do not by any means acknowledge that impossibility,” responded Redclyffe, with a smile. “I certainly feel that sentiment very strongly in my own breast, more especially since I have left America three thousand miles behind me.”