"Maggie, did you remember to-oh well, it doesn't matter—"
"Remember what, Grace?"
"No, really it doesn't matter. It was only that—"
"But Grace, do tell me, because otherwise you'll be blaming me for something I ought to have done."
"Blaming you! Why, Maggie, to hear you talk any one would think that I was always scolding you. Of course if that's what you feel—"
"No, no, I don't. But I'm so careless. I forget things so. I don't want to forget something that I ought to do."
"Yes, you are careless, Maggie. That's quite true. It's one of your faults."
(Strange how willing we are ourselves to admit a fault and irritated when a friend agrees about it with us.)
"Oh, I'm not always careless," said Maggie.
"Often you are, dear, aren't you? You must learn. I'm sure you'll improve in time. I wonder whether-but no, I decided I wouldn't bother, didn't I? Still perhaps, after all—No, I daresay it's wiser to leave it alone."