William, reading it, had remarked that he thought people lived longer nowadays. "Don't you?" he added, anxiously. "We live long enough," Miss Lydia said. "I don't want to live too long." "You can't live too long," he told her, with his sharp smile. Miss Lydia laughed and looked down at the crumbling stone. "I think sixty-eight was just about long enough. I'm like Dr. Lavendar; he says he 'wants to get up from the banquet of life _still hungry_.' That's the way I feel. I don't want to lose my appetite for life by getting too much of it." "I couldn't get too much," Mr. Rives said, nervously. "Let us proceed. This place is--is not cheerful. I like cheerfulness. You always seem cheerful, Lydy?" "Course I am," she said, getting up. "Why shouldn't I be? I haven't a care in the world." "You don't say so!" said William Rives. "I was under the impression that your circumstances--" "My circumstances?" said Miss Lydia. "Bless you! I haven't any. Father didn't leave much of anything. I had $2000, but Cousin Robinson invested it and lost it. He felt so badly, I was just distressed about him." "He should have been prosecuted!" Mr. Rives said, angrily. Miss Lydia shook her head in horrified protest, but she beamed at him from under her black frizette, grateful for his sympathy. "I remember," he said, thoughtfully, "that you were always light-hearted. I recall your once telling me that you began to sing as soon as you got up in the morning." "Oh yes," Miss Lydia said, simply. "I always sing the morning hymn. You know the morning hymn, William? "'Awake, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily course of duty run--'" William nodded. "Vocal exercises (if in tune and not too loud) are always cheerful," he said. Gossiping thus of simple things, they walked back to Lydia's house and sat down in her parlor. There William told her, with a sort of whimper, that his health was bad. "I sent for Willy King--he is so young, he ought not to charge the full fee. I remember him as a very impudent boy," Mr. Rives said, growing red at some memory of William's youth; "however, he seems a respectable young man." "Oh, indeed he is," said Miss Lydia; "he is a dear, good boy. I hope he is doing you good?" she ended, with eager kindness. "Yes, I think so," he said, anxiously. And then he gave his symptoms with a detail that made poor Miss Lydia get very red. "And I don't sleep very well," he ended, sighing. "Willy told me to try repeating the kings of England backward, but I couldn't remember them; so it didn't do any good." "When I don't sleep," said Miss Lydia, "I just count my blessings. That's a splendid thing to do, because you fall asleep before you get to the end of 'em."