"I thought so," she replied. "That, of course, was your own business, and what father said about her being unwilling to marry again need not have made any difference to you if you had chosen not to mind it. But now, don't you think, if you look at the matter fairly and squarely, it would be pretty hard on Mrs. Chester if you were to go down to her and make her understand that she really is a widow, and that now she is free to listen to you if you want to say anything to her? This may sound a little hard and cruel, but don't you think it is the way she would have to look at it?" She stopped as she spoke, and I turned and stood silent, looking at her. "My first thought was," she said, "to advise you to tell father about all this, and take his advice about telling her, but I don't think you would like that. Now, would you like that?" "No," I answered, "I certainly would not." "And don't you really think I ought to go to her with the message, and then come back and tell you how she took it and what she said?" For nearly a minute I did not speak, but I knew she was right, and at last I admitted it. "I am glad to hear you say so!" she exclaimed. "As soon as dinner is over I shall drive to the Holly Sprig." We still walked on, and she proposed that we should go to the top of a hill beyond the orchard, where there was a pretty view. "You may think me a strange sort of a girl," she said, presently, "but I can't help it. I suppose I am strange. I have often thought I would like very much to talk freely and honestly with a man about the reasons which people have for falling in love with each other. Of course I could not ask my father or brother, because they would simply laugh at me and tell me that falling in love was very much like the springing up of weeds--generally without reason and often objectionable. But you would be more likely to tell me something which would be of advantage to me in my studies." "Your studies!" I exclaimed. "What in the world are you studying?" "Well, I am studying human nature--not as a whole, of course, that's too large a subject, but certain phases of it--and I particularly want to know why such queer people come together and get married. Now I have great advantages in such a study, much greater than most girls have." "What are they?" I asked. "The principal one is that I never intend to marry. I made up my mind to that a good while ago. There is a great deal of work that I want to do in this world, and I could not do it properly if I were tied to a man. I would either have to submit myself to his ways, or he would have to submit himself to my ways, and that would not suit me. In the one case I should not respect him, and in the other I should not respect myself." "But suppose," said I, "you should meet a man who should be in perfect harmony with you in all important points?"