She stopped as she spoke, and I turned and stood silent, looking at her.

“My first thought was,” she said, “to advise you to tell father about all this, and take his advice about telling her, but I don’t think you would like that.  Now, would you like that?”

“No,” I answered, “I certainly would not.”

“And don’t you really think I ought to go to her with the message, and then come back and tell you how she took it and what she said?”

For nearly a minute I did not speak, but I knew she was right, and at last I admitted it.

“I am glad to hear you say so!” she exclaimed.  “As soon as dinner is over I shall drive to the Holly Sprig.”

We still walked on, and she proposed that we should go to the top of a hill beyond the orchard, where there was a pretty view.

“You may think me a strange sort of a girl,” she said, presently, “but I can’t help it.  I suppose I am strange.  I have often thought I would like very much to talk freely and honestly with a man about the reasons which people have for falling in love with each other.  Of course I could not ask my father or brother, because they would simply laugh at me and tell me that falling in love was very much like the springing up of weeds—­generally without reason and often objectionable.  But you would be more likely to tell me something which would be of advantage to me in my studies.”

“Your studies!” I exclaimed.  “What in the world are you studying?”

“Well, I am studying human nature—­not as a whole, of course, that’s too large a subject, but certain phases of it—­and I particularly want to know why such queer people come together and get married.  Now I have great advantages in such a study, much greater than most girls have.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“The principal one is that I never intend to marry.  I made up my mind to that a good while ago.  There is a great deal of work that I want to do in this world, and I could not do it properly if I were tied to a man.  I would either have to submit myself to his ways, or he would have to submit himself to my ways, and that would not suit me.  In the one case I should not respect him, and in the other I should not respect myself.”

“But suppose,” said I, “you should meet a man who should be in perfect harmony with you in all important points?”

“Ah,” she said, “that sort of thing never happens.  You might as well expect to pick up two pebbles exactly alike.  I don’t believe in it.  But if at any time during the rest of my life you show me any examples of such harmony, I will change my opinions.  I believe that if I can wait long enough, society will catch up with me.  Everything looks that way to me.”

“It may be that you are right,” I answered.  “Society is getting on famously.  But what is it you want to ask me?”

“Simply this,” she replied.  “What is it which interests you so much in Mrs. Chester?”