“Well, tell me.”
“Angela, you know quite well how often you have advocated our direct and instant obedience to the call of duty.”
“I certainly have—I often wish duty would call me. I have such an easy life. I long to do something great.”
“Well, I will tell you all about myself.”
Marcia did give it résumé of what had just happened.
“The girls are dreadful at present,” she said. “They are—it’s the true word for them, Angela, I cannot help telling you—they are under-bred.”
“It must be dreadful, dear; but is it their fault?”
“I fear in a certain measure that this state of things belongs to their natures.”
“But natures can be altered,” said Angela. “At least I believe so.”
She gave a queer little twitch to her brows, looking up as she did so for a moment at Marcia.