"So much the better," her aunt replied. "It isn't anything that you can do one day, and undo the next; but it is a matter of life-- and death," she added, as if to herself. Then she went on, with an entire change of tone, "Now, Kit, we have been talking about a very serious matter, and I am nearly through. But we may never speak of it again, so before we leave it, I want to just say that I wish you could put this whole subject out of your head for years, until the great question comes to you,--better still, if it had never been put into your head in the first place. However, that mischief is done. Still, try as hard as you can, for this year at least, to forget all about it. Then, if you must remember it at all, remember it as we have spoken of it, a serious question which must be settled between you and your conscience. In the meantime, do the very best you can to develop yourself into a helpful woman, ready for any call that may come. Your call will come, in one way or another, and all you have to do is to be prepared to answer 'ready.' And the grand secret of this preparation lies in perfect unconsciousness of self. It is all hidden in you, Kit, if you only try to make the most of it. And now I shouldn't at all wonder if we were better friends than ever for this frank talk, should you?" The girl did not speak, but, bending over, she kissed her aunt impulsively and left the room. "The child is finding her soul at last," said Mrs. Hapgood to herself. "Kate had smothered it and buried it under her false ideas of womanhood; but it is there, and Katharine might so easily make a woman to be proud of, with her warm, loving nature, if only she could be kept out of the 'scrabble' for a few years longer. Well, my son, what is it?" she added aloud, as Alan came in, yawning and stretching, and dropped into the chair just vacated by Katharine. "Nothing, only I'm sick of reading, and came in for my share in the talk. Has Kit gone?" "She just went up-stairs," answered his mother, surveying her boy with fond pride, for, in all truth, Alan was good to look at as he sat there, a real bonnie boy who might gladden any mother's heart. Mother-like, she passed a caressing hand over his yellow hair, and straightened out his coat-collar, but she only said, "Alan, you are positively growing tall, every single day." "Am I?" asked the boy absently. Then he went on. "Speaking of Kit, mother, has it struck you that she is leaving off a little of her airs and graces? She isn't near as silly as she was when she first came." "I don't think Katharine is silly," his mother replied; "it is only a little way she has. You are too critical of her, Alan." "Well, she makes me tired," responded the boy, rolling up his eyes at his mother, whose deep-seated objection to that phrase he well knew. "She wants to be the very middle of things when we're together, and must have just so much fuss made over her. She'd be well enough, if it wasn't for that."