than mine. She
said that out of it all would come content, and so it has."

"That was not saying much!" said Rose.

"No. It did not seem to me, much, when she said it. But she was right,
all the same, and I was wrong. And it has all happened much better than
if I had got my own way."

"But, Graeme, all that would not apply in the case of women, generally.
That is begging the question, as Harry would say."

"But I am not speaking of women in general; I am speaking about myself,
and my own work; and I say Janet was wise, though I was far from
thinking it that night, as I mind well."

There was a pause, and then Rose said, in a low voice.

"It may have been right for you to stay at home then, and care for the
rest of us, but it would be quite different now, with me, and I think
with you, too. And how many women have to go and make a way of life for
themselves. And it is right that it should be so; and Graeme, we might
try."

Instead of answering her directly, Graeme said, after a little while,--

"Did I ever tell you Rose, dear, about that night, and all that Janet
said to me? I told her how I wished to get out of my useless,
unsatisfactory life, just as you have been telling me. Did I ever tell
you all she said to me? I don't think I ever did. I felt then, just as
you do now. I think I can understand your feeling, better than you
suppose; and I opened my heart to Janet--I mean, I told her how sick I
was of it all, and how good-for-nothing I felt myself to be, and how it
all might be changed, if only I could find real work to do--"

And Graeme went on to tell much that had been said between them that
night, about woman's work, and about old maids, and a little about the
propriety of not setting one's face against the manifest lot of woman;
and when she came to this part of it, she spoke with an attempt at
playfulness, meant to cover, a little, the earnestness of all that went
before. But neither in this nor in the rest, did she speak as though
she meant Rose to take the lesson to herself, or as though it meant very
much to either of them now; but rather implied by her words and manner,
and by many a pathetic touch here and there, that she was dwelling on it
as a pleasant reminiscence of the dear old friend, whose quaint sayings
were household words among them, because of their wisdom, and because of
the honour and the love they gave her. Her earnestness increased, as,
by and by, she saw the impatien