“People are generally far gone before they reach that point,” said Jane, hoping to escape thus from a rather searching question; but a look from Francis, very sad, yet very pleasing to herself, made her change the subject altogether.  She liked to believe that she was very dear to him; they could never marry; there was far too much to forbid it—­duty, interest, near relationship.  Francis’ life and career were too important to be tacked to any woman’s apron-strings, even though that woman was herself, and the plans she had so much delighted in she could see worthily carried out.  She would not be the hindrance and stumbling-block to any good life, and least of all to his.  But, until he met with a woman to be his wife and helpmate, she rejoiced to feel that she was first in his heart.  When that event took place, as it ought to do before long, she would of course retire to a second and inferior position; but it was something to rest in with pleasure, that if it had been right and expedient, she would never have been displaced.

Sometimes mere possibilities—­thoughts of what might have been—­give very precious memories to cheerful tempers; while to those who are of a sad nature, they only enhance the gloominess of the present.  Jane was not so cowardly as to let Francis see that she regretted anything for herself, and she proceeded to tell of her handsome salary, and how small her expenses had been, so that she was saving money; that Alice’s salary would be equal at least to what she had at Mrs. Dunn’s; and that the twenty-four pounds a year which he was allowed to give them was added to their savings; so that they were really making up a little hoard to begin business with Peggy when she left Scotland for Melbourne.  She spoke of her money matters with frankness and confidence, and her cousin could not but see that she had now reasonable hope of prosperity.

They had had a very long conversation before Elsie came in.  She had had a number of troublesome commissions to execute, and had been detained beyond expectation, but had acquitted herself to Mrs. Phillips’s satisfaction, and now came in with a little glow of pleasure on her face to meet her cousin, to feel the warmth of his affectionate greeting, to have a little talk about books and poetry, to refresh her for her monotonous and uninteresting daily work.  Nothing was said about the letter Francis had received, and Jane and he seemed desirous to banish it from their memory.

Chapter VII.

Harriett Phillips Does A Little Bit Of Shopping, Which Is Somewhat Fatal To Her Projects