"You may call it what you please, Adeline; but I believe that, and changing my clothes, airing the bed, and the house, and room, have kept my cheeks, as you say, fresh as roses. Lottie never lets me sit more than two hours at a time at my needle; she calls me to do a chore, or run of an errand. She will not let me pass one day, rain or shine, without exercise in the open air. Neither cold, wet, nor heat hurts me. As to my lightheartedness, Adeline, that's natural to me; but Lottie has helped to keep that up too, by taking care that I don't get fretted at by my customers. She never would let me make a promise that I was not sure of performing. I often get my work done beforehand, and I take pains to fit and please, and somehow I think our Essex folks are easy to please; and smiles beget smiles, you know—if they are pleased, I am. And then it's such a heart-comfort to keep the family together, now father is getting old and feeble."
"After all, Susan, I guess," said her visiter, with an ominous contraction of the lips, "you'll not always be so lighthearted."
"Maybe not; but I don't believe in borrowing trouble."
"It may come without borrowing—they say it's a bad sign to feel too well."
"I don't believe in signs, Adeline."
"You may—they say everybody believes prophecy after it comes to pass."
"Do you mean any thing in particular?" asked Susan, struck more by her companion's tone than her words; "if you do, pray speak out."
"Have you seen Paulina Clark?"
