"Yes," said Brent, between inquiry and reflection.
"What do you think?"
"I don't think she ought," replied Brent. "I think she must." He turned to Susan. "Would you like it?"
Susan hesitated. Freddie said—rather lamely, "Of course she would. For my part, I wish she would."
"Then I will," said Susan quietly.
Palmer looked astounded. He had not dreamed she would assent. He knew her tones—knew that the particular tone meant finality. "You're joking," cried he, with an uneasy laugh. "Why, you wouldn't stand the work for a week. It's hard work—isn't it, Brent?"
"About the hardest," said Brent. "And she's got practically everything still to learn."
"Shall we try, Clélie?" said Susan.
Young Madame Délière was pale with eagerness. "Ah—but that would be worth while!" cried she.
"Then it's settled," said Susan. To Brent: "We'll make the arrangements at once—today."