It was as good as a play to see her sitting in judgment over the last. “No, no,” she would say, “that is not it. I am old, to be sure, but I am better-looking than that. We must try again.” When I was about to leave she bade me goodbye for this life in a somewhat touching manner. We should not meet again, she said; it was a long farewell, and she was sorry. But life is so full of crooks, old lady, that who knows? I have said goodbye to people for greater distances and times, and, please God, I mean to see them yet again.