“Poor woman! One of the saddest types.”
“Decidedly. Virginia isn’t quite so depressing—but how childish!”
“They all strike me as childish. Monica is a dear little girl; it seemed a great absurdity to talk to her about business. Of course she must find a husband.”
“I suppose so.”
Rhoda’s tone of slighting concession amused her companion.
“My dear, after all we don’t desire the end of the race.”
“No, I suppose not,” Rhoda admitted with a laugh.
“A word of caution. Your zeal is eating you up. At this rate, you will hinder our purpose. We have no mission to prevent girls from marrying suitably—only to see that those who can’t shall have a means of living with some satisfaction.”
“What chance is there that this girl will marry suitably?”
“Oh, who knows? At all events, there will be more likelihood of it if she comes into our sphere.”