And a quarter of an hour had passed before she remembered her guest and her luncheon.
"I am so sorry," she said, pulling off the sleeves she had donned for the moment. "Is anybody going to dissect during the summer term? Shall I be able to get a part?"
The two girls walked home together to Mona's rooms, Miss Lascelles's diminutive figure, in its half-æsthetic, half-babyish gown and cape, forming a curious contrast to that of her companion.
"I really do apologise most humbly for my thoughtlessness," said Mona.
"Don't," replied the other, swinging her ungloved hand and raising her slow pleasant voice more than was necessary in the quiet street; "one does not see too much enthusiasm in the world. It is good to have you back."
"I feel rather like a Rip Van Winkle, as you may suppose."
"Yes. The students seem to get younger every year. It is a terrible pity. One does not see how they are ever to take the place of some of the present seniors. What can they know of life?"
"And, as a natural consequence, the supply of medical women will exceed the demand in the next ten years—in this country. After that, things will level themselves, I suppose; but at present, if a woman is to succeed, she must be better than the average man."
"Whereas at present we are getting mainly average women, and of course the average woman is inferior to the average man."
"Heretic!"