"It's plain to be seen what's going to happen," said Mrs. Barkley, excitedly, and whispered her hopes (in secret) to almost everybody in Old Chester--except Dr. Lavendar. He became very ill-tempered the moment she approached the subject. But she was jocose, in a deep bass, to Miss Lydia herself; and Miss Lydia did not pretend to misunderstand. She reddened and laughed; but her eyes were not clear; there was a puzzled look at the back of them. Still, when she sat and looked at her gold the puzzle lightened, and her face, under her black frizette--in her excitement fallen sidewise over one ear--softened almost to tears. "William is kind," she said to herself. And, indeed, at that very moment William was referring to her in most kindly terms. He was sitting in Mrs. Barkley's gloomy parlor, on the edge of the horse-hair sofa, and Mrs. Barkley was regarding him with romantic interest. "I have been much saddened, ma'am," he was saying, "to observe the destitution of Miss Lydia Sampson." Mrs. Barkley beamed. Was he going to do something, after all? She spoke in an amiable bass, twitching her heavy eyebrows. "Our little gift, which has gone to her to-night, will make her more comfortable. I could wish it had been larger," she ended, and looked sidewise at Mr. Rives, who bowed and regretted that it was not larger. He then coughed behind his hand. "Mrs. Barkley, I wish to approach a subject of some delicacy." ("He _is_ going to do something," she thought, excitedly; "or perhaps he means marriage!") "Mrs. Barkley, in past years there were passages of affection between Miss Sampson and myself" (Mrs. Barkley bowed; her heart began to glow with that warmth which stirs the oldest of us at the sight of a lover). "We were younger in those days, ma'am," William said, in his soft voice. "Oh no!" she protested, politely. "Why, you are very well preserved, I'm sure." "Yes," said William, "I am. Yet I am not as young as I once was." This drifting away from Miss Lydia disturbed Mrs. Barkley. She lowered her chin and glared at him over her spectacles, saying, in a rumbling bass: "Neither is Lydia; and it's hard for her to be destitute in her old age." "Just so," Mr. Rives said, eagerly--"exactly. She is not as young as she once was, which, for many reasons, is desirable. But I think she is healthy?" "Why, yes," Mrs. Barkley admitted; "but I don't know that that makes it easier to be poor." "But I infer that poverty has taught her economy?" William Rives said. "Yes; but poverty is a hard teacher." "But thorough--thorough!" said Mr. Rives; "and some people will learn of no other." Mrs. Barkley was growing impatient; she gave up marriage and thought of a pension. "Yes," said William; "she is economical, and has good health, and is fond of old clothes, and is kind-hearted, and doesn't have any wants. Excellent traits--excellent. I have looked very carefully at the items of expense in regard to a housekeeper or nurse."