"You must be the best judge of your obligations."
"There are," said Miss Keating, "other things; I don't know that I'm a good judge of them. You see, I was brought up very carefully."
"Were you?"
"Yes. I'm not sure that it's wise to be as careful as all that—to keep young girls in ignorance of things they—things they must, sooner or later——" she paused staring as if at an abyss.
"What things?" asked Jane bluntly.
"I don't know what things. I don't know anything. I'm afraid. I'm so innocent, Miss Lucy, that I'm like a child in the dark. I think I want some one to hold my hand and tell me there's nothing there."
"Perhaps there isn't."
"Yes, but it's so dark that I can't see whether there is or isn't. I'm just like a little child. Except that it imagines things and I don't."
"Don't you? Are you sure you don't let your imagination run away with you sometimes?"
"Not," said Miss Keating, "not on this subject. Even when I'm brought into contact"—her shoulder-blades obeyed the suggestion of her brain, and shuddered. "I don't know whether it's good or bad to refuse to face things. I can't help it. All that side of life is so intensely disagreeable to me."