"Oh no, you are not old,--you will do very well," some one said.

"Not old!"--Lady Mary felt a little offended in spite of herself.
"Perhaps I like flattery as well as my neighbors," she said with dignity,
"but then it must be reasonable. To say I am anything but a very old
woman--"

Here she paused a little, perceiving for the first time, with surprise,
that she was standing and walking without her stick or the help of any
one's arm, quite freely and at her ease, and that the place in which she
was had expanded into a great place like a gallery in a palace, instead
of the room next her own into which she had walked a few minutes ago; but
this discovery did not at all affect her mind, or occupy her except with
the most passing momentary surprise.

"The fact is, I feel a great deal better and stronger," she said.

"Quite well, Mary, and stronger than ever you were before?"

"Who is it that calls me Mary? I have had nobody for a long time to call
me Mary; the friends of my youth are all dead. I think that you must be
right, although the doctor, I feel sure, thought me very bad last night.
I should have got alarmed if I had not fallen asleep again."

"And then woke up well?"

"Quite well: it is wonderful, but quite true. You seem to know a great
deal about me."

"I know everything about you. You have had a very pleasant life, and do