altar with him and become his wife;--bone of his bone, Mary." And
she spoke these last words in a very solemn tone, shaking her head,
and the solemn tone almost ossified poor Mary's heart as she heard
it.

"Yes; I know there will. But I shall endeavour to find out what he
likes."

"I don't think he is so particular about his eating and drinking as
some other gentlemen; though no doubt he will like his things nice."

"I know he is fond of strong tea, and I sha'n't forget that."

"And about dress. He is not very rich you know, Mary; but it will
make him unhappy if you are not always tidy. And his own shirts--I
fancy he has no one to look after them now, for I so often see the
buttons off. You should never let one of them go into his drawers
without feeling them all to see that they're on tight."

"I'll remember that," said Mary, and then she made another little
furtive attempt to open the book.

"And about your own stockings, Mary. Nothing is so useful to a young
woman in your position as a habit of darning neat. I'm sometimes
almost afraid that you don't like darning."

"Oh yes I do." That was a fib; but what could she do, poor girl, when
so pressed?

"Because I thought you would look at Jane Robinson's and Julia
Wright's which are lying there in the basket. I did Rebecca's myself
before tea, till my old eyes were sore."

"Oh, I didn't know," said Mary, with some slight offence in her tone.
"Why didn't you ask me to do them downright if you wanted?"

"It's only for the practice it will give you."

"Practice! I'm always practising something." But nevertheless she
laid down the book, and dragged the basket of work up on to the
table. "Why, Mrs. Thomas, it's impossible to mend these; they're all
darn."

"Give them to me," said Mrs. Thomas. And then there was silence
between them for a quarter of an hour during which Mary's thoughts
wandered away to the events of her future life. Would his stockings
be so troublesome as these?

But Mrs. Thomas was at heart an honest woman, and as a rule was
honest also in practice. Her conscience told her that Mr. Graham
might probably not approve of this sort of practice for conjugal
duties, and in spite of her failing eyes she resolved to do her duty.
"Never mind them, Mary," said she. "I remember now that you were
doing your own before dinner."

"Of course I was," said Mary sulkily. "And as for practice, I don't
suppose he'll want me to do more of that than anything els