as the
lady took a small fancy to me at the same time, and wanted to have me
about her, here I am."

"But, surely, that is not a situation fit for one like you, Mary!"
cried Letty, almost in consternation; for, notwithstanding her
opposition to her aunt's judgment in the individual case of her friend,
Letty's own judgments, where she had any, were mostly of this world. "I
suppose you are a kind of--of--companion to your lady-friend?"

"Or a kind of lady's-maid, or a kind of dressmaker, or a kind of humble
friend--something like a dog, perhaps--only not to be quite so much
loved and petted; In truth, Letty, I do not know what I am, or what I
am going to be; but I shall find out before long, and where's the use
of knowing, any more than anything else before it's wanted?"

"You take my breath away, Mary! The thing doesn't seem at all like you!
It's not consistent!--Mary Marston in a menial position! I can't get a
hold of it!"

"You remind me," said Mary, laughing, "of what my father said to Mr.
Turnbull once. They were nearer quarreling then than ever I saw them.
You remember my father's way, Letty--how he would say a thing too
quietly even to smile with it? I can't tell you what a delight it is to
me to talk to anybody that knew him!--Mr. Turnbull imagined he did not
know what he was about, for the thoughts my father was thinking could
not have lived a moment in Mr. Turnbull. 'You see, John Turnbull,' my
father said, 'no man can look so inconsistent as one whose principles
are not understood; for hardly in anything will that man do as his
friend must have thought he would.'--I suppose you think, Letty," Mary
went on, with a merry air, "that, for the sake of consistency, I should
never do anything but sell behind a counter?"

"In that case," said Letty, "I ought to have married a milkman, for a
dairy is the only thing I understand. I can't help Tom ever so
little!--But I suppose it wouldn't be possible for two to write poetry
together, even if they were husband and wife, and both of them clever!"

"Something like it has been tried, I believe," answered Mary, "but not
with much success. I suppose, when a man sets himself to make anything,
he must have it all his own way, or he can't do it."

"I suppose that's it. I know Tom is very angry with the editor when he
wants to alter anything he has written. I'm sure Tom's right, too. You
can't think how much better Tom's way always is!--He makes that quite
clear, even to p