it
would be to say, "My dear, I am so busy translating with Prof.
Freilgrath for his new book that I have not a moment for calls." She
does not cordially like the professor. He has very little appreciation
of art, _her_ art, and when one evening she took great pains to explain
an ambitious scheme, he said, "O Miss Marcia, such a thing would be
quite impossible! You would want years of thorough training before you
could attempt it. I should advise something less arduous and better
suited to a young lady's desultory pursuits. You have no idea of
intense study."

"Floyd," she says, one morning, "why cannot I help with copying or
translating? I should be glad to do something."

"Oh," he answers, carelessly, "Violet is able to do all, and satisfies
the professor perfectly."

The professor has come to feel the flurry of unrest in the air. These
ladies of fashion cannot understand he is here now to work, not to be
entertained.

"Mrs. Grandon," he says, one afternoon, as Violet folds the notes she
has been making and puts them in their place,--she is so orderly and
exact it is a pleasure to watch her,--"Mrs. Grandon, I have been
thinking of a plan, and your husband allows me to consult you. I should
like to take your cottage for the autumn. It is so charmingly situated,
so quiet, and your old housekeeper is a treasure. The ground floor
would be sufficient, and nothing would need be disturbed. Some time I
might ask up a friend or two, and you could come over; the exercise
would be beneficial. You grow quite too pale with so much work."

"Why, yes," replies Violet, with a rift of pleasure. She would like
having him there, and it would be pleasant for Denise to prepare meals
and keep house regularly. And the change for her, the absolute getting
away from this unfriendly atmosphere. "You may have it, certainly."

"Thank you. Can you go over and make arrangements? We both need a
little exercise, and we have been beautifully industrious. I do not
know what I should do without your swift fingers. Will I order the
carriage?"

As Violet is dressing herself, an uncomfortable wonder enters her mind.
She hears a good deal of talk about propriety, and she does not know
whether she ought to do this alone. Even Cecil is out with Jane. She
must ask Denise, but alas, she cannot get at her now. Gertrude is kind
to her, and she might--

Violet runs down stairs and relates her perplexity.

"Of course you can," says Gertrude. "Married