“Oh, no! I don’t mind being interviewed,” said Miss Miles, with an attempt at sprightliness.
“I went to a high school, and got a scholarship to Girton, and then I went to a training college, and then I came here.”
Bridget was silent.
“And that has been your life?” she said gently, after a moment or two. “And have you enjoyed it?” she asked, fixing her eyes on Miss Miles’s face intently.
“Enjoyed it?” she echoed. “I—I don’t know. I’ve always worked hard, but I’ve been rewarded, of course. I’ve had several scholarships, and I’m a successful teacher.” Miss Miles flushed a little, and moved nervously.
“It is very clever of you,” Bridget murmured.
Miss Miles glanced at her sharply; but she was gazing thoughtfully out of the window.
“We had relaxation, of course, at Girton. We often had great fun,” pursued Miss Miles.
“Educational fun; I know it. ‘Women only admitted,’” Bridget said drearily.
“Well, we didn’t want men, I’m sure. We enjoyed ourselves quite as well without them,” returned Miss Miles, with some show of spirit. “Don’t you admit the equality of women with men, then? Look at Miss Fawcett. Look at—”