"I couldn't."
"Why? Isn't his wife—isn't his wife nice?"
"She was a waitress at a scrubby little hotel in Winnipeg."
"What are you going to do then?"
"I? I'm going to look out for another situation."
Miss Pringle shook her head sadly.
"Well, I must be going. Mrs. Hubbard will be back from her drive by this time. She's sure to have you in for tea or something before you go. She's always been quite fond of you. At any rate, I'll see you again, of course."
"Oh, yes, indeed."
Nora was thankful to be alone once more. She wanted to think it all out. What a day it had been. Starting with such high hopes to end only in utter disaster. She felt completely exhausted by the emotions she had undergone. Time enough to plan to-morrow. To-night she needed rest.
Two days later, in the late afternoon, she found herself in the train for London, the second journey she had taken in ten years. Once, three years before, Miss Wickham had been persuaded to go up and pay the James Wickhams a short visit and had taken Nora with her.