fifty leaves eleven--yes; the Bride will live eleven years!" Why, that
wasn't so terrible, after all. "That's as long as I have been alive!"
Obviously it would not be necessary to take care of Maurice for quite a
good while. "I guess," she reflected, "I'll have some children by that
time. And maybe I'll be married, too, for Maurice won't need me for
eleven years. But I don't know what I'd do with my husband then?" She
frowned; a husband would be bothering, if she had to go and live with
Maurice. "Oh, well, probably my husband will be so old, he'll die about
the time Maurice's wife does." She had meant to marry Johnny. "But I
won't. He's too young. He's only three years older 'an me. He might live
too long. I must get an old husband. I'll tell Johnny about it
to-morrow. I'll wear mourning," she thought; "a long veil! It's so
interesting. But not over my face--you can't see through it, and it
isn't sense not to be able to see." (The test Edith applied to conduct
was always, "Is it sense?") "Of course I shall feel badly about my
husband; but I've got to take care of Maurice.... Yes; I must get an old
one," she thought. "I must get one as old as the Bride. If they'd only
waited, the Bride could have married my husband!"

But this line of thought was too complicated; and, besides, she had
so entirely cheered up that she practically forgot death. She began to
count how much money her mother owed her for eggs--which reminded her to
look into the nests; and when, in spite of a clucking remonstrance, she
put her hand under a feathery breast and touched the hot smoothness of a
new-laid egg, she felt perfectly happy. "I guess I'll go and get some
floating-island," she thought. "Oh, I _hope_ they haven't eaten it all
up!"

With the egg in her hand, she rushed back to the dining room, and was
reassured by the sight of the big glass dish, still all creamy yellow