“My dear Mrs. Gainsborough, how shockingly indiscreet!” said Mrs. Carpenter with a silly little laugh. “I hope you won’t go round the University saying that women take degrees in order to be with men. You will raise a nice hornets’ nest if you do.”
“Oh dear me, no, that is not in the least what I meant,” stammered Mrs. Gainsborough. “Most of the girls are splendid and don’t run after the boys at all. But I meant that I don’t think that they care about domestic things so much and that it is partly to escape from them that they take up professions. I can’t believe that some of them who are really pretty and charming can care very much for mathematics and the other subjects of that sort that they take.”
“Evangeline was telling me that she read in some paper that socialism is taking a great hold in the Universities,” said Susie. “I think it is a pity, because though it is a nice idea in many ways it doesn’t seem practicable. What you were saying just now about Mrs. Abel just shows that everybody is not fitted for the same kind of work; and either very strong people would get into mischief from not having enough to do or else the weaker ones would die through having too much to do.”
“I think the chief difficulty would be with the ordinary British working man,” said Mrs. Gainsborough, innocently. “They do so dislike regulations of any sort, and if they chose to stop work for any reason I believe they would always do it. They would take no notice of orders or shots or anything. They are so unused to not doing what they want and you can’t argue with them. They would just say it was all nonsense. They are very strong and not at all hysterical like foreigners. They never paid the least attention to rationing, you remember, during the war; no tradesman dared to enforce it in the industrial districts. They don’t mind losing their lives but they seem to think it so silly to be ordered about at home and so it is, I quite agree.”
“Of course,” said Susie, placidly, “if anyone could be found who had really enjoyed a revolution it would be different and one would have more sympathy. It is worth any sacrifice to make people happy. But beyond a few brutal kind of men, who I am sure are either naturally disagreeable or not English, it seems to make everyone discontented. Even the people who make themselves comfortable in ruined palaces must be afraid of someone wanting to turn them out. It all seems so gloomy from what one reads. Must you really go? I hope you will come back, Mrs. Carpenter, and see Evangeline when she comes home. Now she is here for good she will want something to interest her. She might help you perhaps at Christmas with your parcels distribution. Dear Evan was so anxious she should be too busy and happy to miss him just now.”
CHAPTER XIX
Just before Christmas, Teresa met Lady Varens in a shop. “My dear, I am so glad to see you,” said the soft voice that reminded her of Aldwych and her first happiness there. “Come and have tea with me somewhere. I have a great deal to tell you.” Teresa’s heart bounded and bumped. It seemed a year before the girl behind the counter located her particular little wooden ball from among the dozens that were bowling along the wire above her head, carrying little scraps of paper and small change to a stupid public who did not know David. She followed Lady Varens through the crowd to a shop on the other side of the street, where they sat down at a table shut away in a recess off the main room. “What would you like?” Lady Varens asked; “tea and crumpets?”
“Oh yes, anything, awfully,” said Teresa, hardly able to hide her impatience.
“David is coming back next week, did you know?” said Lady Varens. “Has he written to you?”
“No,” said Teresa; “I haven’t heard from him for a year.” Tears came into her eyes, but she flattered herself that they were unobserved.