"No. Take what you have seen and make the most of it."

"I don't think I have judgment," said Lois. "About people, I mean, and men especially. I am not accustomed to New York people, besides."

"Are they different from Shampuashuh people?"

"O, very."

"How?"

"Miss Caruthers asked me the same thing," said Lois, smiling. "I suppose at bottom all people are alike; indeed, I know they are. But in the country I think they show out more."

"Less disguise about them?"

"I think so."

"My dear, are we such a set of masqueraders in your eyes?"

"No," said Lois; "I did not mean that."

"What do you think of Philip Dillwyn? Comare him with young Caruthers."

"I cannot," said Lois. "Mr. Dillwyn strikes me as a man who knows everything there is in all the world."

"And Tom, you think, does not?"

"Not so much," said, Lois hesitating; "at least he does not impress me so."

"You are more impressed with Mr. Dillwyn?"

"In what way?" said Lois simply. "I am impressed with the sense of my own ignorance. I should be oppressed by it, if it was my fault."

"Now you speak like a sensible girl, as you are. Lois, men do not care about women knowing much."

"Sensible men must."

"They are precisely the ones who do not. It is odd enough, but it is a fact. But go on; which of these two do you like best?"

"I have seen most of Mr. Caruthers, you know. But, Mrs. Wishart, sensible men _must_ like sense in other people."

"Yes, my dear; they do; unless when they want to marry the people; and then their choice very often lights upon a fool. I have seen it over and over and over again; the clever one of a family is pa.s.sed by, and a silly sister is the one chosen."

"Why?"

"A pink and white skin, or a pair of black eyebrows, or perhaps some soft blue eyes."

"But people cannot live upon a pair of black eyebrows," said Lois.

"They find that out afterwards."

"Mr. Dillwyn talks as if he liked sense," said Lois. "I mean, he talks about sensible things."

"Do you mean that Tom don't, my dear?"

A slight colour rose on the cheek Mrs. Wishart was looking at; and Lois said somewhat hastily that she was not comparing.

"I shall try to find out what Tom talks to you about, when he comes back from Florida. I shall scold him if he indulges in nonsense."

"It will be neither sense nor nonsense. I shall be gone long before then."

"Gone whither?"

"Home--to Shampuashuh. I have been wanting to speak to you about it, Mrs. Wishart. I must go in a very few days."

"Nonsense! I shall not let you. I cannot get along without you. They don't want you at home, Lois."

"The garden does. And the dairy work will be more now in a week or two; there will be more milk to take care of, and Madge will want help."

"Dairy work! Lois, you must not do dairy work. You will spoil your hands."

Lois laughed. "Somebody's hands must do it. But Madge takes care of the dairy. My hands see to the garden."

"Is it necessary?"

"Why, yes, certainly, if we would have b.u.t.ter or vegetables; and you would not counsel us to do without them. The two make half the living of the family."

"And you really cannot afford a servant?"

"No, nor want one," said Lois. "There are three of us, and so we get along nicely."

"Apropos;--My dear, I am sorry that it is so, but must is must. What I wanted to say to you is, that it is not necessary to tell all this to other people."

Lois looked up, surprised. "I have told no one but you, Mrs. Wishart. O yes! I did speak to Mr. Dillwyn about it, I believe."

"Yes. Well, there is no occasion, my dear. It is just as well not."

"Is it _better_ not? What is the harm? Everybody at Shampuashuh knows it."

"n.o.body knows it here; and there is no reason why they should. I meant to tell you this before."

"I think I have told n.o.body but Mr. Dillwyn."

"He is safe. I only speak for the future, my dear."

"I don't understand yet," said Lois, half laughing. "Mrs. Wishart, we are not ashamed of it."

"Certainly not, my dear; you have no occasion."

"Then why _should_ we be ashamed of it?" Lois persisted.