t suppose she knows enough to get a place as teacher in a
village school. I suppose I know just about as much as the girls who do
go to a village school. I haven't even had lessons in drawing or music,
or anything that I might perhaps have been good at. I'm an ignorant
_fool_, and it's all father's fault, and it isn't fair."

She had talked herself into actual tears now. Muriel said, in a dry
voice which did not accord with her expression of face, "This sudden
rage for learning is a new thing, my dear."

Cicely dabbed her eyes impatiently and sat up in her chair. "I dare say
I am talking a lot of nonsense," she said, "but I have been wondering
what I _do_ get for being the daughter of a rich country gentleman;
because father _is_ rich, as well as being the head of an important
family, as he is always reminding us, though he pretends to think
nothing of it. He has never gone without anything he wanted in the whole
of his life, and the boys have everything they want too, that can be got
for money."

"Your allowance was just twice as much as mine, when father was alive,"
Muriel reminded her.

"Oh, I know I can have plenty of nice clothes and all that," said
Cicely, "and I have nice food too, and plenty of it, and a nice room,
and a big house to live in. But I don't call it living, that's all.
Father and the boys can live. We can't. Outside Kencote, we're nobody at
all--I've found that out--and mother is of no more importance than I am.
We're just the women of the family. Anything is good enough for us."

"I don't think you are quite fair, Cicely. Mrs. Clinton doesn't care for
going about, does she? It would depend more upon her than your father
and brothers."

"What would depend on her?"

"Well, I mean you grumble at Dick and Humphrey knowing more people than
you do."

"I suppose what you do mean is that the Birkets aren't as good as the
Clintons."

There was the slightest pause. Then Muriel said, a little defiantly,
"Well, the Grahams aren't as good as the Conroys."

"I know that mother isn't only as good as father; she is a great deal
better."

Cicely spoke with some heat, and Muriel made a little gesture with her
hands. "Oh, all right, my dear," she said, "if you don't want to talk
straight." It was a formula they used.

Cicely hesitated. "If you mean," she began, but Muriel interrupted her.
"You know quite well what I mean, and you know what I don't mean. You
know I would never say that Mrs. Clinton was