"With being philosophical," Maria smilingly agreed. "Others, of a happier nature, to whom philosophy and religion come as one, and are welcomed by energies not wholly destroyed, and affections not altogether crushed, are strong in the new strength which they have found, with hearts as wide as the universe, and spirits the gayest of the gay." "You never told me anything of all this before," said Margaret; "yet it is plain that you must have thought much about it--that it must have been long in your mind." "It has; and I tell it to you, that you may share what I have learned, instead of going without the knowledge, or, alas! gathering it up for yourself." "Oh, then, it is so--it is from your own--" "It is from my own experience that I speak," said Maria, without looking up. "And now, there is some one in the world who knows it beside myself." "I hope you do not--I hope you never will repent having told me," said Margaret, rising and taking her seat on the sofa, beside her friend. "I do not, and I shall not repent," said Maria. "You are faithful: and it will be a relief to me to have sympathy--to be able to speak sometimes, instead of having to deny and repress my whole heart and soul. But I can tell you no more--not one word." "Do not. Only show me how I can comfort--how I can gratify you." "I need no special comfort now," said Maria, smiling. "I _have_ sometimes grievously wanted a friend to love and speak with--and if I could, to serve. Now I have a friend." And the look with which she gazed at her companion brought the tears into Margaret's eyes. "Come, let us speak of something else," said Maria, cheerfully. "When do you expect your friend, Mr Enderby, at Deerbrook again?" "His sister says nobody knows; and I do not think he can tell himself. You know he does not live at Deerbrook." "I am aware of that; but his last visit was such a long one--" "Six days," said Margaret, laughing. "Ah! I did not mean his last week's appearance, or any of his pop visits. I was thinking of his summer visitation. It was so long, that some people began to look upon him as a resident." "If his mother does not grow much better soon, we shall see him again," said Margaret. "It is always her illness that brings him.--Do you not believe me, Maria?" "I believe, as before, that you say what you think. Whether you are mistaken is another question, which I cannot pretend to answer." "I hope, Maria, that as you have placed so much confidence in me, you will not stop short at the very point which is of the greatest importance to me." "I will not, dear. What I think on the subject of Mr Enderby, in relation to you, is, that some of your friends believe that you are the cause of his stay having been so long in the summer, and of his coming so often since. I know no more than this. How should I?"