“I have heard so much about you,” said Miss Somers, eagerly. “I am so glad to have met you. The Doctor is always so busy he never gives me any answer when I speak; and you know when one is helpless and can’t budge---- I should have been in my room for ever but for Edgar, you know--I mean Mr. Arden--the dearest fellow!--who has sent me---- I don’t know if you understand such things; but look at it. This is the first time I have been out for two years. Such a handsome chair! the very best, you may be sure, that he could get to buy. And I know he is so interested in both---- Which is your grandchild? Goodness gracious me? Are not you frightened to death to leave her? She might catch cold; she might have something go up her ear--lying right down in the grass.” “She’ll take no harm,” said the old woman, “and it’s kind, kind of you to ask----” “Oh, I am always asking,” said Miss Somers; “but people are so very impatient. ‘How you do run on!’ is all my brother says. I hear your child is so pretty; and I am so fond of seeing pretty people. Once, when I was young myself--but that is such a long time ago, and, of course, you would not think it, and I don’t suppose any traces are left--but people did say---- Well, well, you know, one ought never to be vain. She lies dreadfully still; are you not frightened to see her like that--so pale, you know, and so still? It always frightens me to see any one lie so quiet.” “She is sleeping, poor bairn,” said Mrs. Murray. “She has had a fright, and a bit little attack--and now she’s sleeping. The Doctor has been real kind. I canna say in words how kind he has been--and Mr. Arden. You’re fond of Mr. Arden? I do not wonder at that, for he’s a fine lad.” “There can’t be anything wrong in saying I am fond of Edgar. No; I am sure there can’t be anything wrong,” said Miss Somers: “he is the dearest fellow! We were brought up so very strict, I always feel a little difficulty, you know, in saying, about gentlemen---- But then at my age, and so helpless as I am---- I have him up to my room to see me, you know, and I can’t think there is any harm, though I would not for the world do anything that was considered fast, or that would make any talk. Why, I have known him from a baby--or rather I ought to have known him. The Doctor was not here then. When one thinks of such a while ago, you know, everything was so very different. I was going to balls and parties and things, like other young people. Five and twenty years ago!--there was a gentleman that had a post out in India somewhere--but it never came to anything. How strange it would have been, supposing I had been all these five and twenty years in India! I wonder if I should have been helpless as I am now?--but probably it would have been the liver--it would have been sure to have been the liver. Poor dear Edgar, he never was like the Ardens. That was why they were so unkind.” “Unkind!” said Mrs. Murray, with a sudden start.