Mrs. Meadowsweet was not the least like Mrs. Bell. She was not constantly on the watch for lovers for her only daughter. She was naturally such a contented and easy-going woman that she never troubled herself to look far ahead. The time being was always more or less sufficient to her. No two people could be snugger or more absolutely comfortable together than she and her Bee. It was no use therefore worrying her head about the possible contingency that the girl might marry and leave her.  
Mrs. Meadowsweet, as she walked about her old-fashioned garden on that summer's morning was not at all put about by the fact that her pretty daughter was having a solemn conference in the drawing-room with the handsomest and most elegant young man of their acquaintance. She was not curious nor anxious, nor perturbed in any way. She pottered round her plants, pulling up a weed here, and removing a withered bud there, in the most comfortable fashion, and only once she made a remark to herself with regard to the occupants of the drawing-room. This was her sole allusion to them.
 
"I hope that young man won't forget to take the box of Eleazer'ss Life-pills to his mother. I left it handy on the hall table, and I hope he'll remember to slip it into his pocket."
 
Presently Mrs. Meadowsweet re-entered the house. There she noticed two things. The drawing-room was empty, and the box of pills lay untouched on the hall table.
 
She sighed a little over this latter circumstance, but reflecting that she could send Jane with them in the evening she went slowly up to her bedroom and busied herself putting on her afternoon gown, which was of a large check pattern, the coloring being different shades in terra-cotta.
 
Arrayed thus she came down to dinner, and then for the first time she was really startled by perceiving that Beatrice's place was empty. Jane immediately explained her young mistress's absence.
 
"Miss Bee has a headache and is lying down, ma'am. I'm to take her a cup of tea presently, but she doesn't want any dinner."
 
"Dear, dear," ejaculated Mrs. Meadowsweet.
 
"And the peas are lovely and tender to-day, and so for that matter is the chicken. What a pity! Jane, you tell Miss Bee that if she has a headache she had better take two of my pills immediately after she has had her tea. You'll find them in the bottle on my dressing-table, Jane, and you had better take her up some raspberry jam to swallow them in."
 
Jane promised obedience, and Mrs. Meadowsweet ate her green peas and tender, young chicken in great contentment.
 
In the course of the afternoon Beatrice came downstairs again. She told her mother that her headache was quite gone, but the old lady was acute enough to observe a great change in the girl. She did not look ill, but the brightness had gone out of her face.
 
"Is anything wrong, dearie?" she asked. "Has any one been worrying you, my treasure?"
 
"I have got to think about something," replied Beatrice. "And I am just a very little upset. I am going into the garden with a book, and you won't mind if I don't talk to you, mother dear?"
 
"Of course not, my pet. What is an old mother good for, but to humor her child? Go you into the garden, Trixie, and no one shall fret or molest you, I'll see to that."
 
Beatrice kissed her mother, and book in hand went to the rose-bower, a secluded spot where no one could see her or take her unawares. Mrs. Meadowsweet sat upright in her chair, took out her knitting-bag, and proceeded to add a few stitches to Beatrice's quilt.
 
Presently there came a quick and somewhat nervous ring to the door-bell. Mrs. Meadowsweet often said that there were rings and rings. This ring made her give a little start, and took away the sleepiness which was stealing over her.
 
The next moment Catherine Bertram entered the room. Her eyes were glowing, and her face, usually rather pale, was effused with a fine color. She looked eager and expectant.
 
Mrs. Meadowsweet stretched out her two hands to her, and gave her a few warm words of welcome. The impulsive girl stooped down, and kissed the old lady on the forehead.
 
"You're just the person I'm glad to see, my dear," said Mrs. Meadowsweet. "You'll take your mother back her pills. Poor dear, she must have thought I had forgotten all about her."
 
"I have come to see Beatrice," said Catherine. "It is important. Can I see her?"
 
"Well, my love, Bee is not quite herself. She is worried about something; I don't know what for it's my aim in life to make her lot smooth as velvet. She's in the garden with a book, and I said she shouldn't be disturbed. But you, my dear——"
 
"I must see Beatrice," repeated Catherine. "It's important. I've come here on purpose."
 
"Well, my love, you and Bee are always great friends. You haven't a worrying way with you. She's in the rose-arbor. You can find her, child. You walk straight down that path, and then turn to your left."
 
Catherine did not wait another instant. She had the quick and graceful motions of a young fawn, and when she reached Beatrice her eager face was so full of light and excitement that the other girl sprang to her feet, her unopened book tumbled to the floor, and in one moment the two friends had their arms round each other.
 
They did not kiss. This was not the moment for outward expressions of affection. They looked at one another, then Catherine said:
 
"Well, Beatrice?" and, taking her friend's hand, she sat down by her.
 
"You know what happened this morning, Catherine?" said Beatrice, looking at her sadly.
 
"Yes, I know. I have come about that. Loftus came home, and he told mother. I heard him talking to her, and I heard mother crying; I came into the room then, for I cannot bear the sound of my moth............