'I don't question you, do I?
Giles says women are dreadfully curious.' 'I think you are dreadfully mysterious; but, as you are evidently ashamed of your occupations, I will withdraw my question.' 'I do believe you are cross, Miss Garston: you are not a saint, after all, though Giles says you sing like a cherub: I don't know where he ever heard one, but that is his affair.

Well, as you choose to get pettish over it, I will be amiable, and tell you what we do.

Etta says we waste our time dreadfully, but as it is our time and not hers, it is none of her business.' I thought it prudent to remain silent, so she wrinkled her brows and looked perplexed.
'Gladys--let me see what Gladys does: well, she used to teach in the schools, but she does not teach now; she says the infants make her head ache; that is why she has dropped the Sunday-school.

Now Etta has her class.

Then there was the mothers' meeting; well, I never knew why she gave that up,--I wonder if she knows herself,--but Etta has got it.