"Yes," answered the Old Maid. "They will show you so many different
things, one is quite unable--at least, I know it is so in my own
case. I get quite angry with myself. It seems so weak-minded, but
I cannot help it. This very dress I have on now--"

"It is very charming," said the Woman of the World, "in itself. I
have been admiring it. Though I confess I think you look even
better in dark colours."

"You are quite right," replied the Old Maid; "myself, I hate it.
But you know how it is. I seemed to have been all the morning in
the shop. I felt so tired. If only--"

The Old Maid stopped abruptly. "I beg your pardon," she said, "I am
afraid I've interrupted."

"I am so glad you told us," said the Philosopher. "Do you know that
seems to me an explanation?"

"Of what?" asked the Girton Girl.

"Of how so many of us choose our views," returned the Philosopher;
"we don't like to come out of the shop without something."

"But you were about to explain," continued the Philosopher, turning
to the Woman of the World, "--to prove a point."

"That I had been talking nonsense," reminded her the Minor Poet; "if
you are sure it will not weary you."