“It is. But I am going to leave it,” she answered, looking away, and her face flushing.
“Are you? I thought you would not be able to stand it long. You may do much better, and, at any rate, you have the satisfaction of knowing that you can’t do worse.”
“I don’t know about that,” said she, very gravely.
“At any rate, you will have a pleasant holiday among your friends first.”
She gave a rather grim smile.
“I don’t know about that, either. A semi-detached villa in the suburbs, among a family of children compared to whom the Mainwarings are angels, is not the place one would choose for a holiday.”
“You have a lot of young brothers and sisters, then?”
“Oh, no, I have none! I am an orphan; so I have to spend my spare time with an aunt who doesn’t particularly want me.”
“That is hard lines. Then you will teach again?”
“Yes, if I can get any pupils,” said she, rather sadly, thinking how much the shortness of her stay at the Vicarage would be against her chances of getting another engagement. “Not like this, though! I shall take lodgings in London and try to get daily pupils, for music, perhaps. Then I shall have more time to myself, and I can study better.”