“Of course it’s the only place,” she insisted in response to her mother’s amused laugh. “No one smoking or talking in front; you can see out in front and you can see the shops if there are any, and you’re not falling off all the time. The bus goes on the left side of the road and tilts to the left.” The seats were filling up and the driver appeared clambering into his place. “Didn’t you ever think of that? Didn’t you ever think of the bus tilting that way?” persisted Miriam to her mother’s inattentive face. “Fancy never thinking of it. It’s beastly on the other side.” The omnibus jerked forward. “You ought to be a man, Mimmy.” “I liked that little short one,” said Miriam contentedly as they came from under the roar of the bridge. “They were awfully nice, weren’t they? They seemed to have made up their mind to take me before we went.... So I think they like us. I wonder why they like us. Didn’t you think they liked us? Don’t you think they are awfully nice?” “I do. They are very charming ladies.” “Yes, but wasn’t it awfully rum their liking us in that funny way?” “I’m sure I don’t see why they should not.” “Oh, mother, you know what I mean. I like them. I’m perfectly sure I shall like them. D’you remember the little one saying all girls ought to marry? Why did she say that?” “They are dear funny little O.M.’s,” said Mrs. Henderson merrily. She was sitting with her knees crossed, the stuff of her brown canvas dress was dragged across them into an ugly fold by the weight of the velvet panel at the side of the skirt. She looked very small and resourceless. And there were the Pernes with their house and their school. They were old maids. Of course. What then? “I never dreamed of getting such a big salary.” “Oh, my chickie, I’m afraid it isn’t much.” “It is, mother, it’s lovely.” “Oh--eh--well.” Miriam turned fiercely to the roadway on her left. 4 She had missed the first swing forward of the vehicle and the first movements of the compact street. They were going ahead now at a steady even trot. Her face was bathed in the flow of the breeze. Little rivulets played about her temples, feeling their way through her hair. She drew off her gloves without turning from the flowing roadway. As they went on and on down the long road Miriam forgot her companion in the tranquil sense of being carried securely forward through the air away from people and problems. Ahead of her, at the end of the long drive, lay three sunlit weeks, bright now in the certainty of the shadow that lay beyond them ... “the junior school” ... “four boarders.” 5