She
was real sick."
"My mother is always so considerate," Elfrida answered,
reddening, with composed lips. "She is better now, I
think you said."
"Oh yes, she's some better. I heard from her last week,
and she says she doesn't know how to wait to see me back.
That's on your account, of course. Well, I can tell her
you appear comfortable," Miss Kimpsey looked around, "if
I _can't_ tell her exactly when you'll be home."
"That is so doubtful, just now--"
"They're introducing drawing from casts in the High
School," Miss Kimpsey went on, with a note of urgency in
her little twanging voice, "and Mrs. Bell told me I
might just mention it to you. She thinks you could easily
get taken on to teach it. I just dropped round to one or
two of the principal trustees the day before I left, and
they said you had only to apply. It's seven hundred
dollars a year."
Elfrida's eyebrows contracted. "Thanks very much! It was
extremely kind--to go to so much trouble. But I have
decided that I am not meant to be an artist, Miss Kimpsey,"
she said with a self-contained smile. "I think my mother
knows that. I--I don't much like talking about it. Do
you find London confusing? I was dreadfully puzzled at
first.
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