"She is brooding over something," Miss Eliza said; "it can't be because that foolish young man took her cousin when he could have got her? She has too much backbone for that!"
Mr. Weston agreed that Fred was not lacking backbone, but he could not deny the brooding. So it came about that the dear old matchmaker was moved, one day, to go to Sunrise Cottage and put her finger in the pie. After she had drunk a cup of tea, and listened for half an hour to Fred's ideas as to how Laura should bring up the baby, and the "slavery of mothers"—"Lolly hasn't time to read a line!" Fred said;—Miss Eliza suddenly touched her on the shoulder:
"My dear," she said, "you've got to live, whether you like it or not. Make the best of it!"
Fred gave a gasp of astonishment; then she said, in a low voice, "How did you know I didn't like living?"
"Because when I didn't, I was just as careless about my back hair as you are."
Involuntarily Fred put her hand up to her head. "Is it untidy?"
"It's indifferent. And when you think how fond Arthur is of you, it's very selfish in you not to look as pretty as you can."
She went away greatly pleased with herself. "It will touch her vanity to think he likes her to look pretty; and when a girl tries to look pretty for a man, the next step is to fall in love with him."
Alas! Fred's vanity was not in the slightest degree flattered. But her pride had felt the roweling of the spur of Truth. She must brace up—because she had got to live! The words were like a trumpet. "I've got to live—whether I like it or not. I must get action on something," she told herself, grimly.