rue," said Mrs. Ray, thinking that there were
difficulties in the affairs of other people quite as embarrassing as
those of which Mrs. Prime complained.

"He says," continued the younger widow, "that he wants nothing for
himself, but that it is not fitting that a married woman should have
a separate income."

"I think he's right there," said Mrs. Ray.

"I quite believe what he says about himself," said Mrs. Prime. "It is
not that he wants my money for the money's sake, but that he chooses
to dictate to me how I shall use it."

"So he ought if he's to be your husband," said Mrs. Ray.

These conversations usually took place in Rachel's absence. When Mrs.
Prime came Rachel would remain long enough to say a word to her, and
on the Saturdays would pour out the tea for her and would hand to her
the bread and butter with the courtesy due to a visitor; but after
that she would take herself to her own bedroom, and only come down
when Mrs. Prime had prepared herself for going. At last, on one of
these evenings, there came a proposition from Mrs. Prime that she
should return to the cottage, and live again with her mother and
sister. She had not said that she had absolutely rejected Mr. Prong,
but she spoke of her return as though it had become expedient because
the cause of her going away had been removed. Very little had been
said between her and her mother about Rachel's love affair, nor was
Mrs. Prime inclined to say much about it now; but so much as that
she did say. "No doubt it's all over now about that young man, and
therefore, if you like it, I don't see why I shouldn't come back."

"I don't at all know about it's being all over," said Mrs. Ray, in a
hurried quick tone, and as she spoke she blushed with emotion.

"But I suppose it is, mother. From all that I can hear he isn't
thinking of her; and I don't suppose he ever did much."

"I don't know what he's thinking about, Dorothea; and I ain't sure
that there's any good talking about it. Besides, if you're going to
have Mr. Prong at last--"

"If I did, mother, it needn't prevent my coming here for a month or
two first. It wouldn't be quite yet certainly,--if at all. And I
thought that perhaps, if I am going to settle myself in that way,
you'd be glad that we should be altogether again for a little while."

"So I should, Dorothea,--of course. I have never wanted to be divided
from my children. Your going away was your own doing, not mine. I'm
sure it made me so w