“What time did he say he would come, dear?” asked Mrs Fortescue.
“He said he would be here in the morning and he wanted us both to be in.”
“He wants to talk to you about your future, darlings,” said Mrs Fortescue; “very natural, very right. You had no idea, had you, Brenda, of going to Newnham or Girton I do trust and hope you had no thoughts in that direction. Men don’t like women who have led collegiate lives: I know that for a fact; my own dear Frank often said so. He said he could not bear really learned women.”
“I should have thought,” said Brenda, “that men preferred women who could think. But I am afraid,” she added, “that I don’t very much care what men think on the subject. All the same, I am not going to either Newnham or Girton, so you can make your mind easy on that score, Mrs Fortescue.”
“That is right, darling, that is right. I haven’t an idea what Mr Timmins particularly wants to say to you, but I trust whatever he does say will be confided to me.”
“Why, of course,” said Florence.
“And in your future, darlings, I hope that I, your old friend, will bear a part.”
The girls were silent, looking at her intently. She had expected an eager rush of words from those young lips, and their silence made her uneasy.
“I have done all I can for you, haven’t I, my sweet ones?”
“Oh yes! You have been very kind, Mrs Fortescue,” said Brenda.