"He is not the man to care for a young girl, miss. I take it from his appearance and general bearing that when he makes his choice, it will fall on a lady with some experience of the world, like yourself and about your own age." Eola laughed outright and Mrs. Hulver was hurt. A joke she could understand, but ridicule was like a red hot iron, and she shrank into herself. Eola saw that her mirth gave offence, and she hastened to soothe and make amends. "You need have no fear, Mrs. Hulver. He doesn't take my fancy, nor do I take his; so there is no likelihood of your losing me." "It's not that, miss, which troubles me," the housekeeper explained. "Gladly would I see you go as I went myself to the arms of a husband. It's the proper place for every right-minded woman. As William----" Eola interrupted her with another laugh that she found impossible to repress. "You and I don't agree on the subject of marriage and never shall. I am single and you were very much married----" Mrs. Hulver bridled and broke in upon her speech with some indignation. "Indeed, miss! I was no more married than I ought to have been. To have been less married with my three husbands wouldn't have been respectable. And I am sure it has helped me along; I should have been a poor thing without it. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Humble wedlock is better than proud singleness. Marriage is like a good pair of boots to a woman. It will carry her through fair weather and foul. If the boots wear out before their time the best thing to do is to get another pair.' He talked like that when I was hesitating about taking him. It was not the man himself that made me doubt but the way he leaned. It was all towards truth and honesty." "You are truthful and honest, Mrs. Hulver," protested Eola. "Don't say you are not or you won't be doing yourself justice." "I have always shrunk from lies and thieving," admitted Mrs. Hulver. "I never could stoop to low conduct of any kind. But there is truth and truth. As William--that was my third--used to say when I gave him a talking to: 'Lay it on mild, me dear. Truth is like a mustard plaster. It may be very good for the patient but you've got to be careful how you apply it or you may hurt your best friend more than a little.' What troubled me was whether I could live up to the standard of my second." "You might have been happier if you had not married him," said Eola, with a twinkle in her eye, as she controlled her lips. "I couldn't have been happy alone with nothing to live up to and no one to tend. I chanced it and found it quite easy. All I had to be careful about was to prevent anything from coming to his knowledge that was not up to his mark. I soon got used to keeping things smooth; and there was never a married man happier than my second."