“No; I hope not: but what then?”
“I think that Morris knows more of life and the world than you, and that she does not anticipate quite so much happiness from Hester’s marriage as you do. Do not be distressed or alarmed. She means no mistrust of anybody, I imagine; but only that there is no perfect happiness in this life, that nobody is faultless; and no home, not even where her young ladies live, is quite free from care and trouble. It would not hurt you, surely, if she was to say this outright to you?”
“Oh, no; nor a good deal more of the same tendency. She might come much nearer to the point, good soul! without hurting me. Suppose I ask her what it was she did mean, to-night or to-morrow, when she and I are alone?”
“Well! if she is such a wise woman—. But I doubt whether you could get her nearer to the point without danger of hurting her. Can she bring herself to own that either of you have faults?”
“Oh, yes: she has never spared us, from the time we were two feet high.”
“What can make you so anxious as to what she meant?”
“I really hardly know, unless it be that where one loves very much, one fears—Oh, so faithlessly! I know I ought to fear less for Hester than ever; and yet—.”
The door burst open, and the foot-boy entered with his jingling tray, and news that the sedan for Miss Young was at the door. What sedan? Margaret had asked Mrs Grey for hers, as the snow had fallen heavily, and the streets were not fit for Maria’s walking. Maria was very thankful.
Here was an end of Maria’s bright holiday. Mr Grey’s porters must not be kept waiting. The friends assured each other that they should never forget this day. It was little likely that they should.