"You've come to live here, haven't you?" continued Miss Smith. "I'm so glad. I think you look so nice. You don't mind my saying that, do you? I always tell people what I think of them and then one knows where one is. Now, do tell me--I'm simply dying to know--what do you think of everything?" "Well," said Maggie, smiling, "I only arrived here yesterday. It's rather difficult to say." "Oh! I know. I saw Mr. Magnus this morning and he told me that he met you. He said you were ill. You don't look ill." "It was very silly of me," said Maggie, "I don't know what made me faint. I've never done such a thing before." "I used to faint simply heaps of times when I was a kid," said Miss Smith, "I was always doing it. I had all sorts of doctors. They thought I'd never grow up. I'm not very strong now really. They say it's heart, but I always say it can't be that because I've given it all away." Here Miss Smith laughed immoderately. "Weren't they the most terrible set of frumps at chapel this morning?" She did not wait for an answer, but went on: "Mr. Warlock's all right, of course. I think he's such a fine-looking man, don't you? Of course he's old now, but his beard's rather attractive I think. He's a duck, but isn't that harmonium ghastly? I can't think why they don't buy an organ, they're most awfully rich I know, and do simply nothing with their money." "Why do you go," said Maggie, "if you think it all so dreadful?" "Oh! I have to go," said Miss Smith, "to please mother. And one has to do something on Sunday, and besides one sees one's friends. Did you notice Martin Warlock, Mr. Warlock's son, you know. He was sitting quite close to me." "He was here yesterday afternoon," said Maggie quietly. "Oh, was he really? Now that is interesting. I wonder what he came for. He scarcely ever comes here. Did you like him?" "I didn't speak to him," said Maggie. "Of course he's only been here a little time. He's Mr. Warlock's only son. He's lived for years abroad and then the other day his aunt died and left him some money so he came home. His father simply adores him. They say--but of course I don't know. Don't quote me--that he's been most awfully wild. Drink, all sorts of things. But of course they'll say anything of anybody. I think he's got such an interesting face, don't you?" "I don't think," said Maggie, "that you ought to say those things of any one if you don't know they're true." "Oh! what a darling you are!" said Miss Smith. "You're perfectly right--one oughtn't. But every one does. When you've lived up here a little while you will too. And what does it matter? You're sure to hear it sooner or later. But that's right. You keep me straight. I know I talk far too much. I'm always being told about it. But what can one do? Life's so funny--one must talk about it. You haven't seen Miss Avies and Mr. Thurston yet, have you?" "No," said Maggie. "Not unless I saw them in Chapel this morning."