“He is. He is one of the best fellows in the world. But you must have seen that he wasn't a swell.” “I should think he'd be glad he was doing something at once. If I were a--” She stopped, and they laughed together. “I mean that I should hate to be so long getting ready to do something as men are.” “Then you'd rather begin making wall-paper at once than studying law?” “Oh, I don't say that. I'm not competent to advise. But I should like to feel that I was doing something. I suppose it's hereditary.” Mavering stared a little. “One of my father's sisters has gone into a sisterhood. She's in England.” “Is she a--Catholic?” asked Mavering. “She isn't a Roman Catholic.” “Oh yes!” He dropped forward on his knees again to help her tie the bunch she had finished. It was not so easy as the first. “Oh, thank you!” she said, with unnecessary fervour. “But you shouldn't like to go into a sisterhood, I suppose?” said Mavering, ready to laugh. “Oh, I don't know. Why not?” She looked at him with a flying glance, and dropped her eyes. “Oh, no reason, if you have a fancy for that kind of thing.” “That kind of thing?” repeated Alice severely. “Oh, I don't mean anything disrespectful to it,” said Mavering, throwing his anxiety off in the laugh he had been holding back. “And I beg your pardon. But I don't suppose you're in earnest.” “Oh no, I'm not in earnest,” said the girl, letting her wrists fall upon her knees, and the clusters drop from her hands. “I'm not in earnest about anything; that's the truth--that's the shame. Wouldn't you like,” she broke off, “to be a priest, and go round among these people up here on their frozen islands in the winter?” “No,” shouted Mavering, “I certainly shouldn't. I don't see how anybody stands it. Ponkwasset Falls is bad enough in the winter, and compared to this region Ponkwasset Falls is a metropolis. I believe in getting all the good you can out of the world you were born in--of course without hurting anybody else.” He stretched his legs out on the bed of sweet-fern, where he had thrown himself, and rested his head on his hand lifted on his elbow. “I think this is what this place is fit for--a picnic; and I wish every one well out of it for nine months of the year.” “I don't,” said the girl, with a passionate regret in her voice. “It would be heavenly here with--But you--no, you're different. You always want to share your happiness.” “I shouldn't call that happiness. But don't you?” asked Mavering. “No. I'm selfish.” “You don't expect me to be believe that, I suppose.”