composedly, in the companion chair, and answered:

"There's a good deal to do in a home."

"Ah, you've found that out?" said Mrs. Amber regretfully. "We all find
it out sooner or later. But a little domestic work shouldn't make a
girl of your age look so pale and tired as you do. How do you feel,
love?"

"Ragged," said Marie, "and--and awf'ly limp."

A great question was crying in Mrs. Amber's heart, but she was too
tactful to pursue it. Modern girls were not lightly to be
comprehended; she knew well that she did not understand her own
daughter, and young people kept their secrets just as long as they
thought they would.

"You ought to rest, my dear," she said hesitatingly. "I should lie
down on that nice couch of yours every day after lunch, if I were you.
A few minutes make all the difference, I assure you."

"I never used to rest," said Marie.

Mrs. Amber continued her matronly diplomacy:

"No, duck; but that was different. It's so different--"

"What is, mother?"

"When you're married, dear. You should rest a bit."