Page:Firecrackers a realistic novel.pdf/187



Miss Pinchon was a woman with a practical turn of mind. During the limited period in which she had been going out as governess she had put aside major sums from her modest wages, certainly with no definite plan in view, but just as certainly with an ideal, however abstract. Still comparatively young, she cherished the steadfast intention of maintaining herself, in the near future, on a more independent level. The exact date of departure, until recently, had remained hazy and unfixed. Only the week before, indeed, she had not yet determined upon the precise hour she should choose to embark on a more personal enterprise, nor had she selected the enterprise, but the crossing of her trail by the Brothers Steel and a casual remark dropped by Campaspe Lorillard had sown the seed of reflection in her mind, seed that found fertilization in the basic desire that already impregnated her brain. One night the little governess lay awake for, hours, at intervals repeating aloud to herself, Why not? Why not? and figuratively snapping her fingers.

The following afternoon, as soon as she was free