Sue's astonishment when Thirza, after two months in England and Scotland, walked one day into her apartment in Paris, quite unannounced, can be imagined. She wondered and conjectured, but, as her unexpected guest was neither awkward nor badly dressed, accepted the situation gracefully, and ended by really enjoying it. After delightful Paris days, came Italy, Germany, and Switzerland, and then more of Paris, and at last came a time when inexorable figures showed Thirza plainly that she must think of returning to America.
"Thirza," protested Sue, "you really mustn't go."
For answer Thirza held up to view a travel-stained porte-monnaie.
"Perhaps we can arrange it somehow," persisted her cousin, vaguely. "You might take a situation as governess, you know;" these words were uttered doubtfully, and with a deprecating glance at the face opposite.
"Thank you!" responded Thirza. "I don't feel a call in that direction. I think, on the whole, I'd prefer weaving cotton."
"You'll find it unendurable!" groaned Sue.
"Well, que voulez-vous?" responded her cousin, lightly; a quick ear would have noted the slight tremor in her voice. "I have had a glorious holiday."
"But the going back will be simply dreadful," persisted Sue. "I wish I were rich—then you shouldn't go!"
"I hardly think that would make any difference, my dear cousin. I don't think I am eminently fitted to become a parasite," laughed Thirza.