"Ivor! What has he done?"
"He has done nothing. It's what he is going to do."
"Where is he to-night?"
"Gone to dine at Claughton. I thought you knew. That is not the point! Imagine his taking to Magda, more than to Bee Major!"
"You think he has?"
"Quite sure. When he came back from his call yesterday, he had nothing to say, except what a nice bright girl Magda was. And so she is; and I like her. But you can no more compare her with Beatrice Major than—" Mrs. Miles paused for a simile, as she measured the width of her tucks, and failed to find one. "Not that Magda isn't attractive in her own way. But I wish one could bring her to a point. She is all loose ends, and vague dreams, and general discontent. Nothing that one suggests in the way of work seems to be the right thing. I suppose girls are often like that when they first get away from school; but it is time she should settle to something."
"I thought she had given you some help of late."
"In a casual fashion—when nothing that she likes better happens to turn up."
"That seems to be the way with a good many of the Burwood ladies—older as well as younger."
"I've tried my best to rouse them; and some respond all right. But with most of the girls, it is—'Oh, I can't be tied!' Those Hodgson girls, for instance—five of them, strong clever young people, and well-educated. And they're just running to seed. They do absolutely nothing for any human being except themselves. A house-full of servants—no help wanted there; abundance of money; and life one endless round of pleasure! Riding, hunting, motoring, golfing, dancing, paying visits, travelling—nothing but amusement! I tackled them one day in good earnest, and asked if one wouldn't help in the Sunday-school, and another in the night-school, and another in the shoe-club, and so on. And one and all made the same reply. Oh dear, no, they couldn't be tied! They liked to be free. Which means—free to amuse themselves without stint."