“You said I was to try,” the girl cried. “Now I’ve got a place and I’m going to go.”
“You’re not going all that distance,” said her father.
“Why don’t you get a place at Ilkeston, where you can live at home?” asked Gudrun, who hated conflicts, who could not understand Ursula’s uneasy way, yet who must stand by her sister.
“There aren’t any places in Ilkeston,” cried Ursula. “And I’d rather go right away.”
“If you’d asked about it, a place could have been got for you in Ilkeston. But you had to play Miss High-an’-mighty, and go your own way,” said her father.
“I’ve no doubt you’d rather go right away,” said her mother, very caustic. “And I’ve no doubt you’d find other people didn’t put up with you for very long either. You’ve too much opinion of yourself for your good.”
Between the girl and her mother was a feeling of pure hatred. There came a stubborn silence. Ursula knew she must break it.
“Well, they’ve written to me, and I s’ll have to go,” she said.
“Where will you get the money from?” asked her father.
“Uncle Tom will give it me,” she said.