“Why, God bless you!” I cried, “and so you shall. We will throw the thing into the yard. I hate it!” They were both so stricken with horror at my passion that I did not—but I swear that that is the only reason. To comfort me the frail one said: “We—we’re very fond of it, you know. I don’t suppose _your_ teapot has a story?” Do you observe that she unconsciously said _your_ teapot? I at once fancied the hideous history of the hideous mechanism. A hissing, grinding factory! “No,” I answered, adopting her phrase of proprietorship, “_my_ teapot has no story.” But then I added, “Has yours?” Some guilty exchange passed between the two old ladies in the occult way which needs no speech. And the mystery of the bit of clay was deepened. Most things (save the patent teapot) are not new. But I am sure that this question had never before been asked them. “Yes,” said the frail one, with the assent of the other. “I guess you may tell him,” said the blind one, huskily, looking down. The frail one looked almost aghast. “Why, sis!” she said breathlessly. And then, to me, “It is the first time she has ever let me tell it.” “_He_ won’t laugh,” said the blind one—and therein voiced an affection for me of which I shall always be glad. Do you wonder that I hastened her to her story? Perhaps you are glad that I am at last come to it. Yet all I have said belongs together if it were properly told. Now attend! V HILIARY LOVED BOTH AND BOTH LOVED HIM “In 1757,” the frail one began, “everything was different from what it is now—you can’t imagine _how_ different. There was no money like our national bank-notes. The money of the United States was gold and silver coin. There was state money—‘shinplasters,’ they were called—and such things. But most of the money was the private notes of bankers, and no one ever knew whether they were good or bad. So they were always uncertain, and people who wanted money to keep would get it in gold or silver pieces. Sis and I had a little money from our mother’s estate—two thousand dollars each—and the teapot. They gave it to us in twenty-dollar gold pieces, mine of 1837, and sis’s of 1836—the dates of our birth. I think one could get them stamped at the Mint that way in those days. Anyhow, these came from the Philadelphia Mint.” See how badly my old lady tells a story! She jumps straight from the coins to Hiliary.