Now all this took Regina a good deal away from her home, and the result of her absence and of these wider interests in life was that the two girls at Ye Dene were enabled to shape their lives very much more in their own way than ever they had done before. Regina had, it is true, always aimed at inculcating a spirit of independence in her children. She required them to do certain things during the course of the day, to be punctual at meals, especially at breakfast, to report themselves when they were going to school and when they returned; but otherwise, she left them fairly free to spend the rest of their time as their own inclinations led them. They had their own sitting-room and their own tea-table, at which they could invite any children belonging to their school, or indeed, for the matter of that, any of the children living in the Park; and up to the advent of the S.R.W. it must be owned that this system worked as well as any system could have worked with children of such pronounced characters as the young Whittakers. But after their mother became a public woman, Maudie and Julia may be said to have run absolutely wild. No longer did they report themselves in the old way, because they had a very complete contempt for servants, and there was usually no one else to whom they could report themselves. "Does your mother never want to know where you are?" asked a schoolfellow when Maudie was just sixteen. "Well, yes, we always tell her at night what we have done during the day." "Oh, do you?" "Yes," returned Maudie. "Mother is most deeply interested in all our doings. Did you think she wasn't? How funny of you! Isn't your mother interested in what you do?" "Oh yes, of course mine is. But then mine is rather different to yours. Mine is not a public character." "Well, I don't know that our mother is exactly a public character," said Julia, who was keenly on the watch for a single word which would in any way pour ridicule or contempt upon her mother. "Oh yes, she is. Father says she's a philanthropist." "Oh, does he? Well, I don't know I'm sure. Perhaps she is. I know she's a jolly hard-worked woman, and if she wasn't as clever as daylight she wouldn't be able to keep going as she does. As for her being a philanthropist--well, after all, what is a philanthropist?" "Well, I did ask father, and he explained it, but he didn't make it very clear. It seems to be a sort of person who goes about doing good." "That's mother all over," said Maudie. "Then who mends your stockings?" asked Evelyn Gage. "Our stockings? Why, mother has never mended our stockings. Sewing is one of the things mother isn't great on. You couldn't expect it." "Why not? Mine does." "Oh, yes, but our mother is rather different. You see, she was educated like a man." "How funny!" giggled Evelyn.