"I don't like being made to do things."

"Even if you don't mind the things themselves?"

She laughed, but the rebellious note was still audible.

"I'd rather be free to choose for myself. I hate to have my whole life parcelled out for me by—other people!"

This was a new sound in his ears. Subterranean gases of discontent had been at work; but till this moment the imprisoned forces had found no vent in his hearing.

"Spirit of the Age!" he murmured to himself. Aloud he made a slight encouraging sound, and her words came in a rush.

"I don't see why I should have to do it all. I can't help being a Rector's daughter. If I were a clergyman, or a clergyman's wife, it would be by my own choice. Not because I couldn't help myself. Doesn't it seem rather unfair that I should have to spend my time doing things that I detest, and having none for what I love?—well, not very much, at all events. Oh, I didn't mind so much at first. One likes variety, and it was a change from school. But—lately—"

"Yes—lately—?"

"It has begun to seem—horrid. I've felt horrid sometimes. Don't you know—?" appealingly.

"Perhaps I do. What sort of things is it that you want to do?"

"Oh just heaps! I love music, and I could spend hours over it every day. And hours more over Italian and German. I'm rather good at languages. And I want to read—any amount. And then I should like—" and she paused—"more go—for fun!"

"You are asked to a good many tennis-parties, I believe."

"Heaps of them. But that is the same thing, over and over. The same houses, and the same friends. I should like things to be different. I want to go about, and to see fresh people." Her face flashed into brightness. "If only I could go abroad! That would be too delicious. Not keep on always and for ever in the same old ruts."

She sent a quick glance into her companion's face, and was sure that he understood, though he made no remark.

"I don't mean to grumble. But I do so detest handling dirty old library books, and running the Shoe-Club, and going in and out of stuffy cottages, and hearing all about the old women's complaints. I suppose, if I were really good, 

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