“I never should have dreamed you thought of all these things, Bertha. You seem so serene and happy.”
“I am. It’s the one subject I ever worry about. I’m always prepared for the worst.”
“And I’m quite sure you’ve no cause to be. Why not wait till trouble comes?” suggested Madeline.
“Why, then it would be too late. No, I want to ward it off long before there’s any danger.”
“I think it’s very unlike you—almost morbid—bothering about possibilities that will never happen.”
“I daresay it is, in a way. But, you know, I fancy I’ve second sight sometimes. What I feel with us is that things are too smooth, too calm, a little dull. Something ought to happen.”
“You’re looking so pretty, too,” said Madeline rather irrelevantly.
“I’m glad to hear it; but I only want one person to think so.”
“But it’s obvious that he does; he’s very proud of you.”
“I sometimes think he’s too much accustomed to me. He takes me as a matter of course.”