"How long have you been thinking all this, Nora?" she asked.
"Ever since I left school and Miles went to Sandhurst. Until then it all seemed fair enough. He had been to school and I had been to school. But after that, just when I was beginning to learn because I loved it, just when I was beginning to see things and understand them—then I was brought home—here—and there was an end to it."
Mrs. Ingestre put her arm about her daughter's shoulders.
"And then you remembered that you were musical?" she said.
"And you discovered that I was a genius!" came the retort.
Mrs. Ingestre laughed quietly.
"I see that we must not throw stones at each other, or our glass houses will suffer," she said. "And, after all, it does not matter why either of us wanted it, or how we managed. You were to go to London and see a little of the world——"
"Don't talk about it, mother!"
"Only a little, perhaps, but more than your whole future promises you now, poor child. Now you will have to stop here and vegetate."
Nora turned and clasped her mother in a tumultuous embrace.