Gwynneth smiled. That was the last thing to meet her mood.
"Then where shall you go?"
"Either St. Simeon's or All Souls'," said Gwynneth. "I haven't made up my mind."
Nurse Ella shook her head over an admission as characteristic as her disapproval. This was the Gwynneth that she knew.
"When do you make it up!" exclaimed Nurse Ella without inquiry.
"When it's a matter of the least importance," said Gwynneth, choosing to reply. "What can it signify which church I go to, what difference can it possibly make? As a matter of fact I rather think of going to All Souls'."
"I thought you didn't care about music and nothing else?"
"I don't know that there is nothing else. I think of going to see. I have often thought of it before, but St. Simeon's is rather nearer, and I generally end by going there. I shall decide on the way."
"What a girl you are, Gwynneth!" exclaimed Nurse Ella, with frank impatience. "You never seem to know your own mind—never!"
Gwynneth made no reply; but she kindled afresh, and this time very tenderly, as she went her own way through the fog.