Mabel came into Elma’s room one day looking very disturbed. There was a fleeting questioning look of "Are you to be trusted?" in her eye. "You know I’m to be trusted, Mabs," said Elma, as though they had been discussing the iniquity of anything else. "You aren’t vexed at Isobel’s coming are you?" "Oh, no," said Mabel quickly, "it isn’t that, it’s other things." She threw herself languidly on a couch. "Haven’t you noticed that the Merediths haven’t been here for a fortnight?" Elma brushed diligently at fair, very wavy hair. It fell in layers of soft brown, and shone a little with gold where the light touched the ripples, diligently created with over-night plaiting. She had grown, but in a slender manner, and was admittedly the _petite_ member of the family. There was a wealth of comprehension in the glance she let fall on Mabel. "Mabel, you don’t mean to quarrel with them do you?" It seemed that the worst would happen if that happened. "I don’t suppose I shall have the chance," said Mabel. She took a rose out of a vase of flowers, and began to pluck absently at the petals. "I think I should love to have the chance." "Oh, Mabel," said Elma distractedly, "how dreadful of you! And how fatal it might be! I shouldn’t mind quarrelling a little. I think indeed it would be lovely, if one were quite sure, perfectly convinced, that one could make it up again. That’s why I enjoy a play so much. Every one may be simply disgusting, but they are bound to make it up. If only one could be absolutely safe in real life! But you can’t. I don’t believe Mr. Meredith would make it up." "I am sure he wouldn’t." Mabel plucked at a pink leaf stormily. "That’s why I should like to quarrel with him." "Mabs, don’t you care for him now?" Elma’s eyes grew wide with trouble. It was not so much that Mabel had given any definite idea of having cared for Mr. Meredith. It had been a situation accepted long ago as the proper situation for Mabel, that there should be an "understanding" in connexion with Mr. Meredith. It established limitless seas of uncertainty if anything happened to this "understanding" except the most desirable happening. Mabel leaned her head on her hand.