"Well," she asked, "it is overwork, isn't it?"
"Very much overwork; and no wonder. I knew she was a St. Sidwell's woman as soon as I saw her."
"That was clever of you. And do you always know a St. Sidwell's woman when you see one?"
"I do; they all go like this, more or less. It seems to me that St. Sidwell's sacrifices its women to its girls, and its girls to itself. I don't imagine you've much to do with the place, so you won't mind my saying so."
Rhoda smiled a little maliciously.
"You seem to take a great deal for granted. As it happens I am Classical
Mistress there."
Dr. Cautley looked at her and bit his lip. He was annoyed with himself for his blunder and with her for being anything but Rhoda Vivian—pure and simple.
Rhoda laughed frankly at his confusion.
"Never mind. Appearances are deceitful. I'm glad I don't look like it."
"You certainly do not. Still, Miss Quincey is a warning to anybody."