CHAPTER XXIII
"And that," said Desire later in the day as she related her experiences to the professor, "that was the idea with which I left them! I shan't have to teach again, shall I, Benis?"
Her husband smiled. "No. I should think more would be a superfluity."
"They'll say I'm a heathen. I know they will. You don't realize how serious it is. Think how your prestige will suffer."
"It has suffered already. Only yesterday Mrs. Walkem, the laundress, told Aunt that your—er—peculiarities were a judgment on me for 'tryin' to find out them things in folkses minds which God has hid away a-purpose.'"
"But I'm in earnest, Benis—more or less."
"Let it be less, then. My dear girl, you don't really think that Bainbridge disturbs me?"
"N-no. But it disturbs me. A little. I am so different from all these people, your friends. And being different is rather—lonely."
"It is," he agreed. "But it is also stimulating."