"Thank you: I'm sure I shall. Adela, what is this we hear about you?" broke forth Selina, unable to keep silence longer. "You are going to shut yourself up in a grim building, and wear a most disfiguring costume, and nurse cases of fever!"
"Yes," sighed Adela.
"But you surely never will?"
"I must do it. I leave for it the day after tomorrow."
Selina lowered her voice. "Have you sat down and counted the cost?"
"Over and over again. It will be less painful than what I have long been enduring: bodily discomfort is more tolerable than remorse. I shall live a useful life, at any rate, Selina. For a long while now it has been worse than a wasted one."
"They think—Mary does at least—that you will not be strong enough to stand the fatigue."
"I must do my best," sighed Adela. "I hope the strength—in all ways—will come with the need."
"I dare say they give nothing but suet puddings for dinner four days out of the seven!"
Adela faintly smiled. "I don't expect to find luxuries, Selina."