"Poor young thing," said Mrs. James, very sympathetic. "I think I'll
drop in as I'm passing, and see how she takes it"

"If you do," said Mrs. Symes, unrolling her arms, white and wrinkled
with washing, to set them aggressively on her lips, "it's the last
word as passes between us, Mrs. James, so now you know."

"Lord, Maria, don't fly out at me that way." Mrs. James shrank back:
"How was I to know you'd take it like that?"

"Do you suppose," asked Mrs. Symes, "as no one ain't got no legs
except you? _I'm_ a going up, soon as I've got the things on the line
and cleaned myself. I only heard it after I'd got every blessed rag in
soak, or I'd a gone up afore."

"Mightn't I step up with you for company?" Mrs. James asked.

"No, you mightn't. But I don't mind dropping in as I come home, to
tell you about it. One of them Catholic Nunnery schools, I expect,
which it's sudden death to a man but to set his foot into."

"Poor young thing," said Mrs. James again.

* * * * *

Betty was going to Paris.

There had been "much talk about and about" the project. Now it was to
be.