fish. But when questioned she had to own that she had never asked him.

"I shall ask him," said Helen.

"The last time I saw you, you were buying a piano," she continued. "Do
you remember--the piano, the room in the attic, and the great plants
with the prickles?"

"Yes, and my aunts said the piano would come through the floor, but at
their age one wouldn't mind being killed in the night?" she enquired.

"I heard from Aunt Bessie not long ago," Helen stated. "She is afraid
that you will spoil your arms if you insist upon so much practising."

"The muscles of the forearm--and then one won't marry?"

"She didn't put it quite like that," replied Mrs. Ambrose.

"Oh, no--of course she wouldn't," said Rachel with a sigh.

Helen looked at her. Her face was weak rather than decided, saved from
insipidity by the large enquiring eyes; denied beauty, now that she was
sheltered indoors, by the lack of colour and definite outline. Moreover,
a hesitation in speaking, or rather a tendency to use the wrong words,
made her seem more than normally incompetent for her years. Mrs.
Ambrose, who had been speaking much at random, now reflected that she
certainly did not look forward to the intimacy of three or four weeks
on board ship which was threatened. Women of her own age usually boring
her, she supposed that girls would be worse. She glanced at Rachel
again. Yes! how clear it was that she would be vacillating, emotional,