Indeed if you found that you _wished_ to retire at the end of the holidays--of course receiving your salary for the term--" Try as she would to speak as though she were conferring a benefit, the Head had the unmistakable air of asking a favour from her subordinate, of imploring her help in a delicate situation, of putting it to her honour.
Miss Quincey's honour was more than equal to the demand made on it.

She had sunk so low in her own eyes lately that she was glad to gain some little foothold for her poor pride.

She faced Miss Cursiter bravely with her innocent dim eyes as she answered: "I am ready to go, Miss Cursiter, whenever it is most convenient to you; but I cannot think of taking payment for work I have not done." "My dear Miss Quincey, the rule is always a term's notice--or if--if any other arrangement is agreed upon, a term's salary.

There can be no question--you must really allow me--" There Miss Cursiter's address failed her and her voice faltered.

She had extracted the thorn; but it had worked its way deeper than she knew, and the operation was a painful one.