Miss Du Prel rose. “I will leave you to yourselves,” she said, walking away.
Hadria sat down and rested one elbow on the grass, looking over the sweep of the hill towards the distance. “That is almost like our old vision in the caves, Algitha; mist and distant lands—it was a false prophecy. You were talking about me when I came up, were you not?”
“Did you hear?”
“No, but I feel sure of it.”
“Well, I confess it,” said Algitha. “We are both very uneasy about you.”
“If one never did anything all one’s life to make one’s friends uneasy, I wonder if one would have any fun.”
Algitha shook her head anxiously.
“‘Choose what you want and pay for it,’ is the advice of some accredited sage,” Hadria observed.
“Women have to pay so high,” said Algitha.
“So much the worse, but there is such a thing as false economy.”