"You mean," she said slowly, "that I should have to think altogether of _myself_ and what would suit _Me_ and make _me_ happy? That's strange, now; that's very strange! To bring a girl up all her life to believe it's her duty in every small thing that comes along to put herself last and her family in front, and then when she's a grown-up woman, and a man comes along who believes, poor thing! that she could help him and make him happy, _then_ just at that moment you tell her to be selfish and think only of herself. ... 'Tis not that way I'll conduct my love affairs!" cried Pixie O'Shaughnessy. Her eyes met Bridgie's, and flashed defiance. "When I meet a man who needs me I'll find my own happiness in helping _him_!" "Bless you, darling!" said Bridgie softly. "I am quite sure you will. ... It's a very, very serious time for a woman when the question of marriage comes into her life. You can't treat it _too_ seriously. I have not thought of it so far in connection with you, but now that I do I'll pray about it, Pixie! I'll pray for you, that you may be guided to a right choice. You'll pray that for yourself, won't you, dear?" "I will," said Pixie quietly. "I do. And for him--the man I may marry. I've prayed for him quite a long time." "The ... the _man_!" Bridgie was so surprised as to appear almost shocked. "My dear, you don't know him!" "But he is alive, isn't he? He must be, if I'm going to marry him. Alive, and grown-up, and living, perhaps, not so far away. Perhaps he's an orphan, Bridgie; or if he has a home, perhaps he's had to leave it and live in a strange town. ... Perhaps he's in lodgings, going home every night to sit alone in a room. Perhaps he's trying to be good, and finding it very hard. Perhaps there's no one in all the world to pray for him but just me. _Bridgie_! If I'm going to love him how can I _not_ pray?" Mrs Victor rose hurriedly from her seat, and busied herself with the arrangement of the curtains. They were heavy velvet curtains, which at night-time drew round the whole of the large bay window which formed the end of the pretty, cosy room. Bridgie took especial pleasure in the effect of a great brass vase which, on its oaken pedestal, stood sharply outlined against the rich, dark folds. She moved its position now, moved it back into its original place, and touched the leaves of the chrysanthemum which stood therein with a caressing hand. Six years' residence in a town had not sufficed to teach the one-time mistress of Knock Castle to be economical when purchasing flowers. "I can't live without them. It's not my fault if they are dear!" she would protest to her own conscience at the sight of the florist's bill.