the City tired and worn out" has no interest whatever for me; that
this has turned out a good investment; that the shares have gone up,
and will go up again? I should like to know how I am to interest
myself in all that. What has it to do with me?'

'What has it to do with you! How do you think that this house and
grounds, carriages and horses and servants, glasshouses without end,
are paid for? Do I ever grumble about the dressmakers' bills?--and
heaven knows they are high enough. I believe all your hats and hosiery
are put down to house expenses, but I never grumble. I let you have
everything you want--horses, carriages, dresses, servants. You ought
to be the happiest girl in the world in this beautiful place.'

'Beautiful place! I hate the place; I hate it--a nasty, gaudy, vulgar
place, in a vulgar suburb, where nothing but money-grubbing is thought
of from morning, noon, till night; how much percentage can be got out
of everything; cut down the salaries of the employees; work everything
on the most economic basis; it does not matter what the employees
suffer so long as seven per cent. dividend is declared at the end of
the year. I hate the place.'

'My dear, dear Mildred, what are you saying? I never heard you talk
like this before. Mrs. Fargus has been filling your head with
nonsense. I wish I had never asked her to the house; absurd little
creature, with her eternal talk about culture, her cropped hair, and
her spectacles glimmering. What nonsense she has filled your head
with!'

'Mrs. Fargus is a very clever woman. ... I think I should like go to
Girton.'