"Some long day hence, mayhap--who can tell?" "Love's as uncertain as life--isn't it, sir?" "Ahem--yes." "At least, I've read so," corrected Mattie. "It's a thing I shall never understand, Mr. Hinchford." "Time enough--time enough, my girl." "But our Harriet, she's pretty, she's a lady, she's meant to be loved by everybody she meets, and she's the only one that's good enough to marry _him_." She lowered her voice at the last word, and made a quick movement with her hand in the direction of the adjoining room. "You are very fond of Harriet, Mattie?" said Mr. Hinchford, curiously. "As I need be, sir, surely." "Ah! surely--she is amiable and kind." "Always so, I think." "A little thoughtless, perhaps--eh?" He was curious concerning Harriet Wesden now--no match-making mother could have taken more indirect and artful means to elicit the truth concerning her child's elect. "Why, that's it!" exclaimed Mattie; "that's why Mr. Sidney ought to marry her." "Oh! is it?" "You'll see, sir," said Mattie, suddenly drawing a chair close to Mr. Hinchford, and assuming a position on the edge thereof; "you'll soon see, sir, what I mean by that." "Yes--yes." It was a strange picture, with an odd couple in the foreground; Harriet Wesden, Sidney Hinchford, or afflicted Ann Packet, coming in suddenly, would have been puzzled what to make of it. The burlesque side to the scene did not strike Mr. Hinchford till long afterwards; the slight figure of the girl on the chair before him, the rapid manner in which she expounded her theory, her animation, sudden gestures, and, above all, his own intense interest in the theme, and forgetfulness of the confidence he placed in her by his own absorbent _pose_. He had put his pipe aside, and, open-mouthed and round-eyed, was drinking in every word, clutching his knees with his hands, meanwhile. "Mr. Sidney isn't thoughtless. He's careful, and he has a reason for everything, and he will keep her from harm all her life. She'll be the best and brightest of wives to him, if they should ever marry, which I do hope and pray they will, sir, soon. I'm sure there are no two who would make a happier couple, and oh!--to see them happy," clapping her hands together, "what would _I_ give!" "You haven't lost your interest in us, then, Mattie?" "When I forget the prayers that Mrs. Wesden taught me, or the first words of yours that set me thinking that I might grow good, or all the kindness which everybody in this house has shown for me, then I shall lose that, sir--not before!" "You're an uncommon girl, Mattie." "No, sir." "You show an uncommon phase--great gratitude for little kindnesses. I'm glad to see this interest in Harriet and my boy--perhaps they might do worse than make a match of it. But--but," suddenly returning to the subject which engrossed him, "hasn't it struck you--just a little, mind, nothing to speak of--that Harriet Wesden is a trifle vain?"