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Overtheway, "that one remembers many things at the end of a long life, and that they are often those things which happened a long while ago, and which are sometimes so slight in themselves that it is wonderful that they should not have been forgotten. I remember, for instance, when I was about your age, an incident that occurred which gave me an intense dislike to a special shade of brown satin.
Ida would sometimes draw a chair quietly to the table beside her own, and fancy that Mrs. Overtheway was having tea with her. She would ask the old lady if she had been in time for church that morning, beg her to take off her bonnet, and apologise politely for the want of hot tea and toast. So far all was well, for Ida could answer any of these remarks on Mrs.
So Ida told everything, and apologized for her awkward speeches to the housekeeper. "I don't know your name yet," said she. "Call me Mrs. Overtheway still, my dear, if you please," said the little old lady. "I like it." So Ida was no wiser on this score. "I was so sorry to hear that you had been made ill on my account," said Mrs. Overtheway.
"If you will ask an old woman like me the further history of the people she knew in her youth," said Mrs. Overtheway, smiling, "you must expect to hear of deaths. Of course he is dead many a long year since. We became very intimate with him whilst we were his tenants, and, I believe, cheered the close of his life.
I'm rather tired of it." "What sort of a story shall I tell you?" asked Mrs. Overtheway. "A true one, I think," said Ida. "Something that happened to you yourself, if you please. You must remember a great many things, being so old." And Ida said this in simple good-faith, believing it to be a compliment. "It is quite true," said Mrs.
Overtheway looked much the same in winter as in summer. She seemed as fresh and lively as ever, carried her Prayer-book and handkerchief in the same hand, was only more warmly wrapped up, and wore fur-lined boots, which were charming. There was one change, however, which went to Ida's heart. The little old lady had no longer a flower to take to church with her.
"I remember," said Mrs. Overtheway, "I remember my first visit. That is, I remember the occasion when I and my sister Fatima did, for the first time in our lives, go out visiting without our mother, or any grown-up person to take care of us." "Do you remember your mother?" asked Ida. "Quite well, my dear, I am thankful to say. The best and kindest of mothers!" "Was your father alive, too?"
Overtheway could not go out; but whenever it was tolerably fine the old lady appeared as usual, came daintily down the steps, and went where the bells were calling. Chim! chime! chim! chime! They sounded so near through the frosty air, that Ida could almost have fancied that the church was coming round through the snowy streets to pick up the congregation. Mrs.
A candle flared upon the table, by the fire stood an empty chair, and the heavy scent that filled the room was as sweet as the remembrance of past happiness. The little old lady had vanished, and, but for the hyacinth, Ida would almost have doubted whether her visit had not been a dream. "Has Mrs. Overtheway been long gone, Nursey?" she asked, keeping her eyes upon the flowerpot.
That I can tell him," said Ida, fervently, "and please let it be about yourself again, if you can remember anything. I like true stories." "Talking of snoring," said Mrs. Overtheway, "reminds me of something that happened in my youth, and it is true, though, do you know, it is a ghost story." Ida danced in her chair. "That is just what I should like!" she exclaimed.
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