such a dread of the crowd, just public sentiment, you know. Some
odious bystander calls the police, they crowd against your driver,
perhaps a brick gets thrown. We had an experience in England once--"
She paused, then interrupted herself. "But I don't know your name?"
she said brightly.

Margaret supplied it, was led to talk a little of her own people.

"Seven of you, eh? Seven's too many," said the visitor, with the
assurance that Margaret was to learn characterized her. "I've two
myself, two girls," she went on. "I wanted a boy, but they're nice
girls. And you've six brothers and sisters? Are they all as handsome
as you and this Teddy of yours? And why do you like teaching?"

"Why do I like it?" Margaret said, enjoying these confidences and
the unusual experience of sitting idle in mid-afternoon. "I don't,
I hate it."

"I see. But then why don't you come down to New York, and do
something else?" the other woman asked.

"I'm needed at home, and I don't know any one there,"
Margaret said simply.

"I see," the lady said again thoughtfully. There was a pause. Then
the same speaker said reminiscently, "I taught school once for three
months when I was a girl, to show my father I could support myself."

"I've taught for four years," Margaret said.