"But it will not do to make any mistakes, Miss Panney. Those old
prescriptions might not suit you now."

"Don't trouble yourself in the least about that," said the old lady,
lifting her hand impressively; "medicine never injures me. Not a drop of
it do I ever take inside of me, prescription or no prescription. But I
don't mind putting things on the outside of me--of course, I mean in
reason, for there are outside applications that would ruin the
constitution of a jack-screw."

There were very few people in the neighborhood of Thorbury who were older
than Miss Panney, and very few of any age who were as alert in both mind
and body. She had been born in this region; had left it in her youth, and
had returned about thirty years ago, when she had taken up her abode with
the Wittons, who at that time were a newly married couple. They were now
middle-aged people, but Miss Panney still lived with them, and seemed to
be much the very same old lady as she was when she arrived. She was a
woman who kept a good deal to herself, having many resources for her
active mind. With many people who were not acquainted with her socially
but knew all about her, she had the reputation of being wicked. The
principal reason for this belief was the well-known fact that she always
took her breakfast in bed. This was considered to be a French habit, and
the French were looked upon as infidels. Moreover, she never went to
church, and when questioned upon this subject, had been known to answer
that she could not listen with patience to a sermon, for she had never
heard one without thinking that she could preach on that subject a great
deal better than the man in the pulpit.

In spite of this fact, however, the rector of the Episcopal church of