"Mary thought you would like to go with her this morning, while she does her district visiting."
"It's a beautiful morning, Jamie; it will do you good!" cried Mary.
"I should like it very much."
They started out. Mary wore her every-day costume—a serge gown, a sailor hat, and solid, square-toed boots. She walked fast, with long steps and firm carriage. James set himself to talk, asking her insignificant questions about the people she visited. Mary answered with feeling and at length, but was interrupted by arriving at a cottage.
"You'd better not come in here," she said, blushing slightly; "although I want to take you in to some of the people. I think it will be a lesson to them."
"A lesson in what?"
"Oh, I can't tell you to your face, I don't want to make you conceited; but you can guess while you're waiting for me."
Mary's patient was about to be confined, and thinking her condition rather indecent, quite rightly, Mary had left James outside. But the good lady, since it was all in the way of nature, was not so ashamed of herself as she should have been, and insisted on coming to the door to show Miss Clibborn out.
"Take care he doesn't see you!" cried Mary in alarm, pushing her back.
"Well, there's no harm in it. I'm a married woman. You'll have to go through it yourself one day, miss."