Miss Pringle sat down with the air of a person who was hardly conscious
of what she was doing.

"You say she told you she had left you something when you nearly went
away," she went on in the hesitating manner of one who has been
interrupted while reading aloud and is not quite sure that she has
resumed at the right place. "You mean when that assistant of Dr. Evans
wanted to marry you? I'm glad you wouldn't have him."

"He was very kind and--and nice," said Nora gently. "But, of course, he
wasn't a gentleman."

"I shouldn't like to live with a man at all," retorted Miss Pringle,
with unshakable conviction. "I think they're horrid; but of course it
would be utterly impossible if he weren't a gentleman."

Nora's eyes twinkled with amusement; she gave a little gurgle of
laughter. "He came to see Miss Wickham, but she wouldn't have anything
to do with him. First, she said she couldn't spare me, and then she said
that I had a very bad temper."

"I like _her_ saying that," retorted her listener.

"It's quite true," said Nora with a deprecating wave of her hand. "Every
now and then I felt I couldn't put up with her any more. I forgot that
I was dependent on her, and that if she dismissed me, I probably
shouldn't be able to find another situation, and I just flew at her. I
must say she was very nice about it; she used to look at me and grin,
and when it was all over, say: 'My dear, when you marry, if your
husband's a wise man, he'll use a big stick now and then.'"