“Her case is different.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you,” answered Mary, her lip curling, “and spare Imogene the trouble. I am a poor relation. Some time I’ve got to work for my living. It doesn’t matter much about me. The shabby accommodations of a boarding-school will suit me very well.”
“That is perfectly true,” said Imogene sharply, “though you probably don’t mean it. As you can’t expect anything better than a common home when you are grown up, it would be better that you should prepare for it in a boarding-school than to become accustomed to luxury in my father’s house.”
“You are extremely considerate, Imogene,” said Mary. “I suppose I ought to feel grateful to you for thinking so much about what would be best for me.”
“I don’t expect any gratitude from you, miss,” retorted Imogene, “though my papa does board you and pay all your bills.”
“Tom must feel very much interested in our conversation,” said Mary, flushing with mortification.
“Uncommonly,” said Tom. “Do I understand that you mean to earn your living some day?”
“Yes, if I get the chance.”
“What are you going to do?”