word."

"I want to use it myself," said Jane. "It's not a bit too much."

"I didn't mean it."

She added softly, reminiscently. "She was such a little thing."

"Much too little for you to care about."

"That's why I cared. I know it was. She was just like a little, lonely
child; and she clung to me at first."

"She certainly seems to have clung."

"That's why it's so awful to think that she couldn't bear it--couldn't
bear to live with me."

"We wondered how you could bear to live with her."

"Did you?"

"Yes. Why did you have her?"

"You see, I had to have some one; and she was nice."

"I don't think she was nice at all."

"Oh yes," said Kitty, solemnly, "you could see _that_."

"I suppose you mean she was a lady?"

"Ye--es." Kitty was not by any means certain that that was what she did
mean. It was so difficult to find words for what she meant.

"That," said Jane, "is the least you can be."

"Anyhow, she _was_."

"Well, if you take a charitable view of her. Her people are probably
nicer than she is. Perhaps that's why she doesn't live with them."

"Her father," said Kitty, "is the vicar of Wenden. I suppose that's all
right."

"Probably; but _we_ don't care what peoples' fathers are like, provided
they're nice themselves."

"Do you think I'm nice?"

Jane laughed. "Yes, as it happens, I do."

"Ah, _you_--_you_----"

"We both do," said Jane boldly.

"You're the first nice woman I've known who hasn't been horrid to me.
And he----" Kitty had been playing with a button of her dressing-gown.
Her fingers now began tearing, passionately, convulsively, at the
button. "He is the first nice man who--who hasn't been what men are."

"You don't mean that," said Jane calmly. She was holding Mrs. Tailleur's
hand in hers and caressing it, soothing its pathetic violence.

"I do. I do. That's why I like you so."

"I'm glad you like us."

"I'd give anything to know what you really think of me."

"May I say what I think?"

"Yes."

"I think you're too good to be so unhappy."

"That's a new view of me. Most people think I'm too unhappy to be very
good."

"You _are_ good; but if you'd been happier you'd have known that other
people are what you call good, too."

"That's what I said to Bunny. _She_ was unhappy."

"Never mind her. If you'd been happier you'd have known, for instance,
that my brother isn't an exception. There are a great many men like him.
All the men I've known have been more or