dare say I shan't have
much money, because one of those 'accidents' you mentioned has happened to
me already."

"That need not trouble you," replied Rosamund imperturbable. "I have
always been able to get all the money that was needed."

"Well, I'll help all I can."

"That's not what I ask," said Rosamund inflexibly. "Will you take Jane
Foley's place? Will you give yourself utterly?"

Audrey answered with sudden vehemence:

"No, I won't. You didn't want a definite answer, but there it is."

"But surely you believe in the cause?"

"Yes."

"It's the greatest of all causes."

"I'm rather inclined to think it is."

"Why not give yourself, then? You are free. I have given myself, my child."

"Yes," said Audrey, who resented the appellation of "child." "But, you see,
it's your hobby."

"My hobby, Mrs. Moncreiff!" exclaimed Rosamund.

"Certainly, your hobby," Audrey persisted.

"I have sacrificed everything to it," said Rosamund.

"Pardon me," said Audrey. "I don't think you've sacrificed anything to it.
You just enjoy bossing other people above everything, and it gives you
every chance to boss. And you enjoy plots too, and look at the chances you
get for that'. Mind you, I like you for it. I think you're splendid. Only
_I_ don't want to be a monomaniac, and I won't be." Her convictions seemed
to have become suddenly clear and absolutely decided.

"Do you mean to infer that I am a monomaniac?" asked Rosamund, raising her
eyebrows--but only a little.

"Well," said Audrey, "as you mentioned frankness--what else would you call
yourself but a monomaniac? You only live for one thing--don't you, now?"

"It is the greatest thing."

"I don't say it isn't," Audrey admitted. "But I've been thinking a good
deal about all this, and at last I've come to the conclusion that one
thing-isn't enough for me, not nearly enough. And I'm not going to be
peculiar at any price. Neither a fanatic nor a monomaniac, nor anything
like that."

"You are in love," asserted Rosamund.

"And what if I am? If you ask me, I think a girl who isn't in love ought to
be somewhat ashamed of herself, or at least sorry for herself. And I am
sorry for myself, because I am not in love. I wish I was. Why shouldn't I
be? It must be lovely to be in love. If I was in love I shouldn't be _only_
in love. You think you understand what girls are nowadays, but you don't. I
didn't myself until just lately. But I'm beginning to. Girls were supposed
to b