"Why, you see lots of women have to work for food and clothes and a roof. Some try to act, some to dressmake, or write novels, or teach infants--that's all right, of course. They've got to do it to get through the world. If you have got a great deal of talent for acting, even though you are not obliged to do it, it is all right to go on the stage, and, of course, if you have genius you have no business to keep it from the world. But there are a whole heap of women who want to do things for the sake of getting a little more money than they really need, or because they like being talked about, or for some other reason that doesn't hold water, and they do it under easy conditions and snatch the chances from the women who have got to do it for their bread-and-butter. I think they are an immoral lot myself." "But, Mr. Carringford--" "You don't want money, do you?" "I've got a hundred pounds in my pocket--" "Splendid! I've only got two pounds ten in mine. But what have you got a year?" "Father has only two hundred. I have it while he is away." "But when your father returns he'll be rich. His brother has made a pile out there--heard so the other day--and he hasn't any children. Do go back to the farm, there's a dear girl." "But I can't," said Margaret, carefully concealing the pleasure she felt at being called a dear girl. "Hannah wouldn't even let me in now. Besides, I may be very stupid or I may be a genius; I want to find out, and I shall be quite safe here." "Oh yes, you'll be quite safe here. Mrs. Gilman is a nice woman. She's a great friend of mine. I shall go and talk to her in a moment. My people used to know her--believe it was my mother who sent Miss Hunstan here. Well, if you are not going back to the farm, when you've done your rehearsal to-day we might have a spree--drive about, or something. Mr. Vincent let us do it before, so he wouldn't mind our doing it again." "Of course not," she answered, joyfully. "Shall I call for you at the theatre?" "I don't know what time the rehearsal will be over." "Then suppose I come here at four and we drive to Richmond, walk about in the park, dine early, and get back here by nine? That'll be all right, you know, or we'll take a steamer on the river Thames, as the guide-books say, and go to Greenwich. Meanwhile, does Sir George Stringer know that you are here?" "No; but I am going to write to him, only I didn't think of it till mother wrote." "I shall tell the Lakemans you are here, of course." "Yes," she answered, very doubtfully. "I don't believe you care about them?" "I've only seen Mrs. Lakeman twice." She stopped a moment. "Mr. Carringford--" she began. "Why do you call me that? It sounds so absurd." "Does it," she said, and the color came to her face. "I was going to ask--are you engaged to Lena Lakeman?" She almost laughed, for now, somehow, the question seemed absurd. "No. Are you engaged to Mr. Garratt?" "Why, of course not!"