e persons
who do so are hardly ever happy--thoroughly happy; it seems such a pity,
but it's true. Now I am always happy; but then I never take any trouble
for any one, not a bit."

"I haven't observed that," said Margaret.

"No one observes it," responded Garda, composedly; "but it is quite
true. And I never intend to take any trouble, whether they observe it or
not. But with you it is different, you take a great deal; partly you
have taught yourself to do it, and partly you were made so."

"Since when have you devoted your attention to these deep subjects, Miss
Thorne?" said Margaret, smiling down upon the upturned face of the girl
before her.

Garda rose to her knees. "Oh, don't call me Miss Thorne," she said,
pleadingly, putting her arms round her companion. "I love you so
much--please never say it again."

"Very well. I will call you Garda."

"I like it when you are cold like that--oh, I like it!" said Garda, with
enthusiasm. "All you say when I tell you I adore you is, 'Very well; I
will call you Garda;' you do not even say 'my dear.' That is beautiful,
because you really mean it; you mean nothing more, and you say nothing
more."

"Do you praise me simply because I speak the truth?" said Margaret.

"Yes; for nothing is more rare. I speak the truth myself, but my truth
is whatever happens to come into my head; your truth is quiet and real,
as you yourself are. I could never be like you, I don't want to be; but
I admire you--I admire you."

"I don't know that I am much complimented, if you keep on insisting, in
spite of it all, that you don't want to be like me," said Margaret,
laughing again.

"Well," replied Garda, "I don't; what's the use of pretending? For I
wish to be happy, and I mean to be happy. You are a sort of an angel;
but I have never heard that angels had very much of a good time
themselves, or that anybody did anything especial for _their_ pleasure;
they are supposed to be above it. But I am not above it, and never shall
be." And leaning forward, she kissed Margaret's cheek. "It's because
you're so wonderful," she said.

"I am not wonderful at all," answered Margaret, rather coldly,
withdrawing a little from the girl's embrace.

"And if you didn't answer in just that way, you wouldn't be, of course,"
said Garda, delightedly; "that is exactly what I mean--you are so cold
and so true. You think I exaggerate, you do not like to have me talk in
this way about you, and so you draw back; but