“I know you are all much too kind to me,” Frances said.
“We’re not!” said Nell stoutly. “We’d do anything for you. And we hate you to think us rough and ill-mannered. It’s Arthur’s fault if you do, but even he means well.”
“But, my dear, I don’t,” Frances protested.
“Sure?” said Nell.
“Yes, quite sure.” Frances laid a friendly hand on her arm. “I couldn’t think anything horrid of you if I tried,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Nell somewhat pathetically. “It’s rather hard to be judged by one’s men-folk, I sometimes think. They can be such beasts.”
“I expect it depends how you take them,” said Frances practically.
Nell looked at her with a hint of envy. “It’s all right for you,” she said. “You’re not under any man’s heel.”
“I have been,” said Frances, with a sudden memory of the Bishop. “But I never shall be again.”
“You will be if you marry,” said Nell.