"She has no parents," said Comethup; "they're dead, both of them." And forthwith he proceeded to give his aunt some account of 'Linda and her history, so far as he knew; of how he had first found her, and her friendship for the captain, with many details of her loveliness and her charm which must have wearied the excellent old lady very much. However, she expressed deep interest in the matter, and listened with the utmost attention. Presently she got up from her chair and began to walk up and down the room, with her hand on his arm, in silence. After some minutes she broke the silence and spoke almost as though she were alone. "Yes, it's the one thing worth having, the one thing worth holding--I'm not sure that it isn't the one thing worth dying for. Ah! that sounds foolish, perhaps, from the lips of an old woman to whom God never gave anything to attract a man--except perhaps a sharp tongue, and that sometimes drives 'em away. But you mustn't think, Comethup, that you're the only one on this earth that's ever been in love. I know you think that no one ever had it quite so badly as you've got it; that all the others have been quite ordinary affairs compared to yours. But the best and the worst of us, the lowest and the highest, may all chance to have a touch of that fever in their passage from the cradle to the grave. It's a beautiful fever, and I think the delirium of it takes us precious near heaven." She stopped again for some moments and appeared very thoughtful; finally shook her head, laughed a little, sighed, and squeezed his arm more tightly.