Nora's eyes twinkled with amusement; she gave a little gurgle of laughter. "He came to see Miss Wickham, but she wouldn't have anything to do with him. First, she said she couldn't spare me, and then she said that I had a very bad temper."
"I like her saying that," retorted her listener.
"It's quite true," said Nora with a deprecating wave of her hand. "Every now and then I felt I couldn't put up with her any more. I forgot that I was dependent on her, and that if she dismissed me, I probably shouldn't be able to find another situation, and I just flew at her. I must say she was very nice about it; she used to look at me and grin, and when it was all over, say: 'My dear, when you marry, if your husband's a wise man, he'll use a big stick now and then.'"
"Old cat!"
"I should like to see any man try it," said Nora with emphasis.
Miss Pringle dismissed the supposition with a wave of her hand. "How much do you think she's left you?" she asked eagerly.
"Well, of course I don't know; the will is going to be read this afternoon, when they come back from the funeral. But from what she said, I believe about two hundred and fifty pounds a year."
"It's the least she could do. She's had the ten best years of your life." Nora gave a long, happy sigh. "Just think of it! Never to be at anybody's beck and call again. I shall be able to get up when I like and go to bed when I like, go out when I choose and come in when I choose. Think of what that means!"
"Unless you marry—you probably will," said Miss Pringle in a discouraging tone.