least to be cold
and unkind--and instead you're as sorry as you can be for me and want to
see me happy! You are sweet."

"Of course I'd like to see you happy," said Bertha. "You understand now
that I also care for my husband? You're not the only one in the world,
though I admit we're rather exceptions nowadays!"

"Yes; and I thought because you were so pretty and sweet that you _must_
be a flirt--at the very least."

"I don't say I'm not, all the same. But I would never wish to interfere
with other people's happiness."

"I sometimes think it might be better if I were a little of a flirt,"
sighed Mary. "But I can't--it's not my nature--or, rather, I'm too busy
always looking after Nigel!"

"Well, don't do that so much and he'll look after you all the more. Show
interest in your appearance and society--let him be proud of you--and
_don't_ be afraid of being fond of the children!"

"I'm really tremendously fond of them," said Mary. "Only I was always so
afraid he would think they would do instead of him! I have such a horror
of his sending me off with them and thinking they will fill up all my
life, while he was living like a gay bachelor! And when he was very
sweet to them I really was jealous of them!"

"But all this is absurd. If you show your affection for them he will
love you far more, and when _he_ is devoted to them it shows he's
devoted to you. Don't be foolish, Mrs. Hillier, you have had a sort of
crisis. Do let it end there. Let things be different. He will be
delighted to see you cheerful and jolly again. It's all in your own
hands, really."

"Thank you. It was a shame to bother you."

She got up to go.

"May I tell you, later on ... how things are? I shall follow your advice
_exactly_!"

Mary was looking at her now in a kind of worshipping gratitude and
trust.

"Yes, do. But I know it will be all right. Only be a little patient just
now. ... He will miss you awfully, I know," said Bertha, smiling.

"Oh! Will he _really_? How _sweet_ of you to say that! Good-bye, Bertha.
Dear Bertha, you have been kind. I'm _so_ sorry." Tears came to her eyes
again, but as she passed the little mirror she began to laugh. "To think
I should have come to see you for the first time got up like a dame in a
pantomime. How grotesque!"

They both laughed. Laughter altered and improved Mary wonderfully. It
was a faculty she never exercised. She was always much too serious.

"Do you know, I haven't one woman friend,