“But I don’t think she can come,” said Marion’s little monotonous voice coming in, “so you may put your mind at rest, papa, for she would not like to leave the house with just Bell in it. She is thinking of selling the things, for she will not want to keep up a big house like that when there is nobody but herself, and no allowance; but she will have to take care of them all the more not to let them be spoiled by a servant-lass. And she will think she has not good enough clothes----.” Marion here made a very perceptible examination of Mrs. Rowland’s dress, which was not “a silk” nor “a satin,” but simple grey stuff and made in the most unassuming way: “I don’t see that,” she continued with an obvious comparison, “for she has some very nice silks, and she might come very well, so far as that goes. But for another thing, she could not spend the money. When it was for us, she never minded; but she always grudges a railway ticket for herself.” “What do you mean about selling her things, and no allowance?” said Rowland hastily; but he added, “We need not discuss that here. But of course, my dear, what you decide upon must be done.” “So I intend,” said Mrs. Rowland, with a laughing bow to him, as of a queen to a king. “We shall have a great deal to settle when we get home, and I hope that everybody will be pleased with my despotism.” “Oh, as for that,” said Marion, taking upon herself again the role of expositor, “I’ve always read that a lady should be the mistress in her own side; the gentleman, outside; and she’s not to meddle with him; but the lady----” “I assure you I shall meddle with him, Marion. The flower garden, for instance, I shall take entirely into my hands. In short, I don’t know the thing in which I shall not meddle.” “The lady,” said Marion, raising her voice a little, “should have all the house to manage, and the children, and all within her own sphere. The books all say that woman’s sphere is Home.” “With a great many capital letters.” “You may be meaning some joke with your capital letters, but I’m saying just what I’ve read. It’s nothing about politics nor business--not that kind of thing; but to sit at the fireside and give her orders, and everybody to be at her beck and call.” “Excellent, Marion; you have said your lesson very well, and I hope you mean to be at this lady’s beck and call.” “I don’t know,” said Marion, “that it means the grown-up children: for when you get to be eighteen or so, you are supposed to be able to judge for yourself. But it was no lesson. It was just what I’ve read in books. I have always been very fond of reading books.”