"In my happiest hours the fear lies heaviest upon me," she replied. "No
one has ever spoken of my going, that is true; but I have common sense,
and common sense tells me if certain events happen I must go."

"What events do you mean?" I asked, all unconsciously.

She sighed deeply.

"If you were to be married, Sir Edgar--Cousin Edgar, I like to say
best--then I must go."

"I do not see the necessity."

"Ah! you do not understand; women are all jealous. I have grown so
accustomed to perform a hundred little services for you, they make the
pleasure and sunshine of my life. To be able to do some little thing to
help you is the highest earthly joy that I can ever know. When you are
married, Sir Edgar, your wife will take all this happiness from me."

"I do not see why," I replied, dryly, inwardly wishing myself safe in
Clare's room.

"Ah! you do not understand--men never can understand the love of women.
Wives, above all, are so very jealous. Fancy, if ever I wanted to make
your tea, or get anything ready for you, she would be angry, and I
should be wretched."

"In that case you must make tea for Clare instead of me."

"If I am anywhere near you, I must always attend to you before every one