“Hush,” said Lucinda.  “You remember what we agreed upon after we’d told Albion Bennet that we’d keep it secret.”

“Of course I remember,” said Hannah; “but there ain’t any harm in my reminding you how queer it was that we found the arsenic, that the poor thing had been taking to make her beautiful complexion, in her room.”

“It was awful,” said Lucinda.  “Poor soul!  I always liked her.  People ought to be contented with what God has given them for complexions.”

“I wonder if she would have looked very dreadful if she hadn’t taken it,” Hannah said, ruminatingly.  She was passing the kitchen looking-glass as she spoke, and glanced in it.  Hannah considered that her own skin was very rough.  “I suppose,” said she, “that it would never have happened if she had been careful.  I suppose lots of women do use such things.”

Lucinda cast a sharp glance at Hannah.  “It’s downright wicked fooling with them,” said she.  “I hope you won’t get any such ideas into your head.”

“No, I sha’n’t,” replied Hannah.  “I’m married.”

“I heard pretty straight this morning,” said Lucinda, “that Lucy Ayres had got married out West, and had done real well.”

“I’m mighty glad of it,” said Hannah, sharply.  “She was crazy enough to get married when she was here.”

Lucinda echoed her as sharply.  “Guess you’re right,” she said.  “Albion Bennet told me some things.  I shouldn’t think she’d make much of a wife, if she has got a pretty face.”

“She’s just the kind to settle down and be a real sensible woman, after she’s found out that she’s on the earth and not in the clouds,” returned Hannah, with an air of wisdom.

Then Albion Bennet came into the kitchen for some hot water for shaving.  He was going to the wedding, and had closed his store early, and was about to devote a long time to preparations.  Lucinda, also, was going.  She had a new black silk for the occasion.

When Albion left the kitchen he beckoned her to follow him.  She made an excuse and went out into the corridor.  “What is it?” she said to Albion, who was waiting, holding his pitcher of hot water.

“Nothing,” said he, “only I was over to Alford this morning and—­I bought some violets.  I thought you’d like to wear them to the wedding.”

Lucinda stared at him.  “What for?” asked she.

Albion fidgeted and his pitcher of hot water tilted.

“Look out, you’re spilling the water,” said Lucinda.  “What for?”

“I—­thought you might like to wear them, you know,” said Albion.  He had never before given violets to a woman, and she had never had any given her by a man.

“Thank you,” she said, faintly.

“I’ve ordered a hack to come for me at half-past seven, and—­I thought maybe you’d like to ride with me,” said Albion, further.

Lucinda stared.  “What for?” she said again.

“I thought you might like to ride.”