“I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. “I have given her two days’ holiday,” Anna answered. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. ’ Melusine’s eyes misted. Miss Garvice assumed a quality of neutrality, professed herself almost won over by Ann Veronica’s example, and the Scotchman decided that if women had a distinctive sphere it was, at any rate, an enlarging sphere, and no one who believed in the doctrine of evolution could logically deny the vote to women “ultimately,” however much they might be disposed to doubt the advisability of its immediate concession. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles.
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