me. I must finish my collar, or
I shall not duly honour your sister in my first call. We can talk as
well working as idle."

"Cannot I help you? Our affairs are all in such dreadfully perfect
order, that I have not a stitch of work to do. I see a hole in your
glove: let me mend it."

"Do; and when you have done that, there is the other. Two years hence,
how you will wonder that there ever was a time when you had not a stitch
of work in the house! Wedding clothes last about two years, and then
they all wear out together. I wish you joy of the work you will have to
do then--if nothing should come between you and it."

"What should come between us and it?" said Margaret, struck by the tone
in which Maria spoke the last words. "Are you following Morris's lead?
Are you going to say,--`Remember death, Miss Margaret?'"

"Oh, no; but there are other things which happen sometimes besides
death. I beg your pardon, Margaret, if I am impertinent--"

"How should you be impertinent? You, the most intimate friend but one
that I have in the world! You mean marriage of course; that I may marry
within these same two years? Any one may naturally say so, I suppose,
to a girl whose sister is just married: and in another person's case it
would seem to me probable enough, but I assure you, Maria, I do not feel
as if it was at all likely that I should marry."

"I quite believe you, Margaret. I have no doubt you feel so, and that
you will feel so till--. But, dear, you may one day find yourself
feeling very differently without a moment's warning; and that day may
happen within two years. Such things have been known."

"If there was any one--" said Margaret, simply--"if I had ever seen any
one for whom I could fancy myself feeling as Hester did--"

"If there was any one!"--repeated Maria, looking up in some surprise.
"My dear Margaret, do you mean to say there is no one?"

"Yes, I do; I think so. I know what you mean, Maria. I understand your
face and your voice. But I do think it is very hard that one cannot
enjoy a pleasant friendship with anybody without seeing people on the
watch for something more. It is so very painful to have such ideas put
into one's mind, to spoil all one's intercourse--to throw restraint over
it--to mix up selfishness with it! It is so wrong to interfere between
those who might and would be the most useful and delightful companions
to each other, without having a thought which need put con