Her naive alarm again excited Rhoda to laughter.

'Something like that, they say. So many _odd_ women--no making a
pair with them. The pessimists call them useless, lost, futile
lives. I, naturally--being one of them myself--take another
view. I look upon them as a great reserve. When one woman vanishes
in matrimony, the reserve offers a substitute for the world's work.
True, they are not all trained yet--far from it. I want to help in
that--to train the reserve.'

'But married woman are not idle,' protested Monica earnestly.

'Not all of them. Some cook and rock cradles.'

Again Miss Nunn's mood changed. She laughed the subject away, and
abruptly began to talk of old days down in Somerset, of rambles
about Cheddar Cliffs, or at Glastonbury, or on the Quantocks.
Monica, however, could not listen, and with difficulty commanded her
face to a pleasant smile.

'Will you come and see Miss Barfoot?' Rhoda asked, when it had
become clear to her that the girl would gladly get away. 'I am only
her subordinate, but I know she will wish to be of all the use to
you she can.'

Monica expressed her thanks, and promised to act as soon as possible
on any invitation that was sent her. She took leave just as the
servant announced another caller.