rmer ones with whom loving is
an end and not a means. Men of forty, too, said of her, 'a good sensible
wife for any man, if she cares to marry,' the caring to marry being
thrown in as the vaguest hypothesis, because she was so practical.
Yet it would be singular if, in such cases, the important subject of
marriage should be excluded from manipulation by hands that are ready
for practical performance in every domestic concern besides.

Cytherea was an acquisition, and the greeting was hearty.

'Good afternoon! O yes--Miss Graye, from Miss Aldclyffe's. I have seen
you at church, and I am so glad you have called! Come in. I wonder if I
have change enough to pay my subscription.' She spoke girlishly.

Adelaide, when in the company of a younger woman, always levelled
herself down to that younger woman's age from a sense of justice to
herself--as if, though not her own age at common law, it was in equity.

'It doesn't matter. I'll come again.'

'Yes, do at any time; not only on this errand. But you must step in for
a minute. Do.'

'I have been wanting to come for several weeks.'

'That's right. Now you must see my house--lonely, isn't it, for a single
person? People said it was odd for a young woman like me to keep on a
house; but what did I care? If you knew the pleasure of locking up your
own door, with the sensation that you reigned supreme inside it, you
would say it was worth the risk of being called odd. Mr. Springrove
attends to my gardening, the dog attends to robbers, and whenever there
is a snake or toad to kill, Jane does it.'

'How nice! It is better than living in a town.'

'Far better. A town makes a cynic of me.'

The remark recalled, somewhat startlingly, to Cytherea's mind, that
Edward had used those very words to herself one evening at Budmouth.

Miss Hinton opened an interior door and led her visitor into a small
drawing-room commanding a view of the country for miles.

The missionary business was soon settled; but the chat continued.

'How lonely it must be here at night!' said Cytherea. 'Aren't you
afraid?'

'At first I was, slightly. But I got used to the solitude. And you know
a sort of commonsense will creep even into timidity. I say to myself
sometimes at night, "If I were anybody but a harmless woman, not worth
the trouble of a worm's ghost to appear to me, I should think that every
sound I hear was a spirit." But you must see all over my house.'

Cytherea was highly interested in se