ges.'

'No,' said Ursula. 'And they're so heavy.'

'Surprising!' cried Laura.

'How do you do,' sang Hermione, from out of the field, the moment she
could make her voice heard. 'It's nice now. Are you going for a walk?
Yes. Isn't the young green beautiful? So beautiful--quite burning. Good
morning--good morning--you'll come and see me?--thank you so much--next
week--yes--good-bye, g-o-o-d b-y-e.'

Gudrun and Ursula stood and watched her slowly waving her head up and
down, and waving her hand slowly in dismissal, smiling a strange
affected smile, making a tall queer, frightening figure, with her heavy
fair hair slipping to her eyes. Then they moved off, as if they had
been dismissed like inferiors. The four women parted.

As soon as they had gone far enough, Ursula said, her cheeks burning,

'I do think she's impudent.'

'Who, Hermione Roddice?' asked Gudrun. 'Why?'

'The way she treats one--impudence!'

'Why, Ursula, what did you notice that was so impudent?' asked Gudrun
rather coldly.

'Her whole manner. Oh, It's impossible, the way she tries to bully one.
Pure bullying. She's an impudent woman. "You'll come and see me," as if
we should be falling over ourselves for the privilege.'

'I can't understand, Ursula, what you are so much put out about,' said
Gudrun, in some exasperation. 'One knows those women are
impudent--these free women who have emancipated themselves from the
aristocracy.'

'But it is so UNNECESSARY--so vulgar,' cried Ursula.

'No, I don't see it. And if I did--pour moi, elle n'existe pas. I don't
grant her the power to be impudent to me.'

'Do you think she likes you?' asked Ursula.

'Well, no, I shouldn't think she did.'

'Then why does she ask you to go to Breadalby and stay with her?'

Gudrun lifted her shoulders in a low shrug.

'After all, she's got the sense to know we're not just the ordinary
run,' said Gudrun. 'Whatever she is, she's not a fool. And I'd rather
have somebody I detested, than the ordinary woman who keeps to her own
set. Hermione Roddice does risk herself in some respects.'

Ursula pondered this for a time.

'I doubt it,' she replied. 'Really she risks nothing. I suppose we
ought to admire her for knowing she CAN invite us--school teachers--and
risk nothing.'

'Precisely!' said Gudrun. 'Think of the myriads of women that daren't
do it. She makes the most of her privileges--that's something. I
suppose, really, we should do the same, in her place.'

'No