disagreeable to think of, for it was impossible to avoid contrasting
herself with the picture of Barbara which Mrs. Douglas had drawn. She
thought of the sister at home who so patiently, year after year, had
given up her own cherished desires that she might be gratified; who had
needed, far more than she herself had, the change and rest of this year
abroad, but whom she had forced to return with the father, even though
she knew well it was her own duty to go,--how many such instances of
selfishness had filled her life!

She felt that she could almost hate this fortunate Barbara,
who so easily was gaining all the things she herself
coveted,--admiration,--wealth,--love? no, not if she could help it! and
she forced herself to smile, to praise the same qualities of heart that
Mrs. Douglas had admired; to talk pityingly of the miserable ones of
earth; adoringly of self-sacrificing, heroic deeds, and sympathizingly
of noble endeavor.

* * * * *

What had been the matter in the other carriage? After the burst of
gayety with which the three girls and Malcom had greeted the swifter
equipage as it rolled past theirs, nothing was said for some time, until
Malcom suddenly burst out with the expression of what had evidently been
the subject of his thought:--

"Girls, do you think that Uncle Robert is falling in love with Miss
Sherman?"

The question fell like a bombshell into the little group. Margery first
found a voice, but it was a most awed, repressed one:--