An odd coincidence." "A very odd coincidence." After which brief reply John relapsed into taciturnity.
More than once that morning we recurred to the subject of our neighbours--that is, I did--but John was rather saturnine and uncommunicative.

Nay, when, as Mrs.Tod was removing the breakfast, I ventured to ask her a harmless question or two--who Mr.March was, and where he came from ?--I was abruptly reproved, the very minute our good landlady had shut the door, for my tendency to "gossip." At which I only laughed, and reminded him that he had ingeniously scolded me after, not before, I had gained the desired information--namely, that Mr.March was a gentleman of independent property--that he had no friends hereabouts, and that he usually lived in Wales.
"He cannot be our Mr.March, then." "No," said John, with an air of great relief.
I was amused to see how seriously he took such a trifle; ay, many a time that day I laughed at him for evincing such great sympathy over our neighbours, and especially--which was plain enough to see, though he doubtless believed he entirely disguised it--for that interest which a young man of twenty would naturally take in a very charming and personable young woman.

Ay, naturally, as I said to myself, for I admired her too, extremely.
It seems strange now to call to mind that morning, and our light-hearted jests about Miss March.

Strange that Destiny should often come thus, creeping like a child to our very doors; we hardly notice it, or send it away with a laugh; it comes so naturally, so simply, so accidentally, as it were, that we recognise it not.

We cannot believe that the baby intruder is in reality the king of our fortunes; the ruler of our lives.