"Emily shook her head. 'I am older than you, Rosa, and have had more opportunities of noticing widowers. There are a great many things for them to think about when they marry a second time: their children, their positions, and all that. I believe that if a man and his wife discussed it, which they would not be likely to do, they would be very apt to be of the same mind in regard to the sort of person who ought to come in as number two. For my part, I do not wonder at all that so many women have cast their eyes on Margaret Temple as a person they would like to have take their places when they are gone. For one thing, you know they would not be jealous of her; this is very important. Then, they would be as certain as anything can be certain in this world that their children, if they had any, as well as their husbands, would be in most excellent hands. Often, when I have been thinking about her, I have called Margaret Temple the Vice-consort; but I have never told any one this. Please remember.'
"So far I had not seen a thing to laugh at, but I was deeply interested. 'How came all this to be known?' I asked. 'Has Miss Temple gone about telling people?'
"'Oh, no, indeed; she is not that sort of person. A good many of the village ladies know it, and I think they always have heard it from those prudent ladies who were providing for their husbands' futures. People talk about it, of course, but they are very careful that nothing they say shall reach Margaret Temple's ears.'
"'Tell me about some of the people,' I said, 'who want to secure Miss Temple as a successor. Do they all feel as though they are likely to die?'
"'Not all of them,' answered Emily. 'There is Mrs. Hendrickson, who was obliged to go to Arizona on account of her father's property. He was very rich, and died not long ago. Her husband has to stay at home to attend to his business, and she could not take her little baby; and although she is just as healthy as anybody, she knew all the dangers of railroad travelling, and all sorts of things in that far-away place; and, before she packed her trunk, she went to Margaret Temple and asked her to promise that if she died out there, she, Margaret, would marry Mr. Hendrickson. This I know for certain, for Mrs. Hendrickson told me herself.'
"'Did Miss Temple promise?'
"'That I did not hear,' replied Emily. 'Mrs. Hendrickson was in a great hurry, and perhaps she did not intend to tell me, anyway. But I do not believe Margaret absolutely refused; at least, it would not have been prudent for her to do so. The Hendricksons are rich, and he is a fine man. There would be nothing in the way of such a match.'
"'Except the return of the wife,' I remarked.
"Emily smiled. 'And then there was poor Mrs. Windham,' she continued. 'Everybody knew she asked Margaret. She left a son about eight years old who is very delicate. The poor woman has not been dead long enough for anything to come of that, but I do not believe anything ever will. There are people who say that Mr. Windham drinks; but I have seen no signs of it. Then there is another one—and no matter what you may hear people say about these things, you must never mention that I told you this. Mrs. Barnes, the rector's wife, has spoken to Margaret on the subject. She looks very well, so far as I can judge; but there is consumption in her family. She is almost bigoted in regard to the duties of a rector's wife. She tries just as hard as she can to fill the position properly herself, and she knows Mr. Barnes would never be satisfied with any one who did not agree with him as she does about the responsibilities of a rector's wife.'
"'Does Margaret Temple agree with him?' I asked.