"Aunt Madge, are you superstitious?"
Miss Chester looked up and smiled.
"I used to be years ago," she admitted. "I used to bow to every sweep I met and refuse to sit down thirteen at a table."
"Is that all?" Marie asked.
Miss Chester stifled a little sigh.
"Well, I once wore a piece of white heather round my neck night and day for two years," she said after a moment. "It was given to me by the man I should have married if he had lived. But the white heather brought me no luck, for he was drowned at sea when he was 131 on his way home for our wedding."
Marie's face hardened a little.
"There is no such thing as luck." she said.
"I know a better word for it." Miss Chester answered gently. "I mean Fate. I think each one of us has his or her fate mapped out, and that it always happens for the best, though we may not think so."
There was a little silence.