con
for more than three months. My mother seemed to be waiting for an
explanation of my original remark. I gave her one at once.

"But it's exactly the kind of thing the Archdeacon would have said if he
hadn't been in Dublin and if I had met him and if our conversation had
happened to turn on Lalage Beresford."

My mother admitted frankly that this was true; but she seemed to think
my explanation incomplete. I added to it.

"He went on to speak at some length," I said. "That is to say he would
have gone on to speak at some length about the great importance of a
mother's influence during the early years of a girl's life."

My mother still looked at me and her face still wore a questioning
expression. It was evident to me that I must further justify myself.

"So I'm not doing the Archdeacon any wrong," I went on, "in putting
into his mouth words and sentiments which he would certainly approve. I
happen to have forestalled him in giving them expression, but he would
readily endorse them. You know yourself that he's great on subjects like
the sacred home influence of a good woman."

"I suppose," said my mother after a pause, "that you want to hear the
whole account of Lalage's latest escapade?"

"Miss Battersby's version of it," I said. "I heard the Canon's after
luncheon."

"And that story of yours about the Archdeacon----"

"That," I said, "was my way of introducing the subject without
displaying what might strike you as vulgar curiosity. I have too much
respect for you to heckle you with aggressive inquiries as if you were a
Chief Secretary for Ireland and I were a Member of Parliament. Besides,
I don't like the feeling that I'm asking blunt questions about Miss
Battersby's private affairs. After all, she's a lady. I'm sure you'll
appreciate my feelings."

"Lalage," said my mother, "is an extremely naughty little girl who will
be a great deal better at school."

"But have you considered the plan from the point of view of the school
you're sending her to?"

"Miss Pettigrew is an old friend of mine and----"

"Is she the schoolmistress?"

"The principal," said my mother, "and she's quite capable of dealing
with Lalage."

"I wasn't thinking of her. As I told the Canon this afternoon, Lalage
will probably be very good for her."

"She'll certainly be very good for Lalage."

"I'm not saying anything the least derogatory to Miss Pettigrew.
Schoolmasters are just the same. So are the heads of colleges. The