rgotten something in your list of trifles, Graeme,--your
love and care for us all."

"No, Will. These are implied. It is the love and care that made all
these trifles really `woman's work.' A poor dreary work it would be
without these."

"And, Graeme, is there nothing still, to sanctify your daily labour, and
make it work indeed?" said Will.

"There is, indeed, Will. If I were only sure that it is my work. But,
I am not sure. And it seems as though--somewhere in the world, there
must be something better worth the name of work, for me to do." And
letting her hands fall in her lap, she looked away over the numberless
roofs of the city, to the grey line of the river beyond.

"Oh! Will," she went on in a little, "you do not know. You who have
your life's work laid out before you, can never understand how it is
with me. You know the work before you is your work--given you by God
himself. You need have no misgivings, you can make no mistake. And
look at the difference. Think of all the years I may have to spend,
doing the forgotten ends of another's duty, filling up the time with
trifles, visits, frivolous talk, or fancy work, or other things which do
good to no one. And all the time not knowing whether I ought to stay in
the old round, or break away from it all--never sure but that elsewhere,
I might find wholesome work for God and man."

Very seldom did Graeme allow herself to put her troubled thoughts into
words, and she rose now and went about the room, as if she wished to put
an end to their talk. But Will said,--

"Even if it were true and real, all you say, it may not be for long.
Some day, you don't know how soon, you may have legitimate `woman's
work' to do,--love, and sympathy, and care, and all the rest, without
encroaching on Fanny's domain."

He began gravely, but blushed and stammered; and glanced with laughing
deprecation at his sister, as he ended. She did not laugh.

"I have thought of that, too. It seems so natural and proper, and in
the common course of things, that a woman should marry. And there have
been times, during this last year, when, just to get away from it all, I
have thought that any change would be for the better. But it would not
be right, unless--" she hesitated.

"No, unless it was the right person, and all that, but may we not
reasonably hope that the right person may come?"

"We won't talk about it, Will. There must be some other way than that.
Many women fi