"Oh, if she'd give me notice I'd let her off."
"Let her off till you could find a substitute?"
"Yes—but I confess it would be a great inconvenience. People wouldn't take the second one so seriously."
"She would have to make a sacrifice; she would have to wait till you should know where you were," Mrs. Gosselin suggested.
"Yes, but where would her advantage come in?" Mary persisted.
"Only in the pleasure of charity; the moral satisfaction of doing a fellow a good turn," said Firminger.
"You must think people are keen to oblige you!"
"Ah, but surely I could count on you, couldn't I?" the young man asked.
Mary had finished cutting her book; she got up and flung it down on the tea-table. "What a preposterous conversation!" she exclaimed with force, tossing the words from her as she tossed her book; and, looking round her vaguely a moment, without meeting Guy Firminger's eye, she walked away to the house.
Firminger sat watching her; then he said serenely to her mother: "Why has our Mary left us?"