FullReads

“One day Mrs. Cheston gave me a luncheon, to which she invited a good many of the village ladies; and, after they were all gone, we two sat on the piazza and talked about them. Two or three of our guests I had not met before, and in the course of our talk Emily mentioned the name of Margaret Temple.

“‘Temple?’ said I. ‘Which one was that? I do not recall her.’

“‘You were talking to her some time,’ she replied. ‘I think she was telling you about the mountains.’

“‘Oh, yes,’ said I; ‘she was pointing out those passes through which people go into the next county. She sat at the other end of the table, didn’t she? She was dressed in black.’

“‘Oh, no,’ said Emily, ‘she was not dressed in black. She never wears black. I think she wore a brown dress with some sort of light trimming.’

“‘Oh, well,’ said I, ‘I did not notice her dress, and when I do not notice people’s clothes I nearly always think they dress in black. Is she nice?’

“‘She is very nice indeed,’ said Emily; ‘everybody thinks that.’

“‘I wish I had seen more of her,’ said I.

“Emily did not answer this remark, but a smile came on her face which presently grew into a little laugh. I looked at her in surprise.

“‘What is there funny about Miss Temple?’ I asked.

“‘Really there is nothing funny about her,’ she replied, ‘but I often laugh to myself when I think of her.’

“I suddenly became very much interested in Miss Temple. ‘Tell me why you do that,’ I said. ‘I always like to know why people laugh at other people.’

“Emily now became very sober. ‘You must not think,’ she said, ‘that there is anything ridiculous about Margaret Temple. There is not a finer woman to be found anywhere, and I do not believe there is anybody who laughs at her except myself. You know I am very apt to see the funny side of things.’

“‘And so am I!’ I exclaimed. ‘Do tell me about Miss Temple. It is so seldom there is anything amusing about a really nice person.’

“Emily was silent for a moment, and then she said: ‘Well, I do not know that there is any real harm in telling you what makes me laugh. A good many people know all about it; but I would not, for the world, have Margaret Temple find out that I told you.’

“I assured her with great earnestness that if she would tell me, I would never breathe it to any living soul.

“‘Very well,’ said Emily; ‘I will trust you. As I said, it really isn’t funny, but it is just this. It is a positive fact that five married ladies (I am certain of this number, and it may be more) have gone to Margaret Temple, during the past few years, and each one has asked her to become her husband’s second wife in case she should die.’

“I did not laugh; I exclaimed in amazement: ‘Why did they all ask her? I did not notice anything particularly attractive about her.’

“‘I think that is the point,’ said Emily. ‘I do not think a woman is likely to want her husband to take an attractive woman for his second wife. If she had the chance to choose her successor, she would like her husband to have a really nice person, good in every way, but not one with whom he would be likely to fall violently in love. Don’t you see the point of that?’

“I replied that it was easy enough to see the point, but that there was another one. ‘You must remember,’ said I, ‘that husbands are generally very particular; if one has had a young and handsome wife he would not be likely to be satisfied with anything less.’

“Emily shook her head. ‘I am older than you, Rosa, and have had more opportunities of noticing widowers. There are a great many things for them to think about when they marry a second time: their children, their positions, and all that. I believe that if a man and his wife discussed it, which they would not be likely to do, they would be very apt to be of the same mind in regard to the sort of person who ought to come in as number two. For my part, I do not wonder at all that so many women have cast their eyes on Margaret Temple as a person they would like to have take their places when they are gone. For one thing, you know they would not be jealous of her; this is very important. Then, they would be as certain as anything can be certain in this world that their children, if they had any, as well as their husbands, would be in most excellent hands. Often, when I have been thinking about her, I have called Margaret Temple the Vice-consort; but I have never told any one this. Please remember.’