MISS MAT FIELD'S NEW YEAR 411

Spanish or qualify as an accountant or something
equally crazy. You feel like that after the holidays. But
what's this new attitude?"

It was explained to her, and she listened with a
dubious smile on her smooth pale face. "Ah, my
children," she said, "1 like to hear you talk. I? too, have
felt like that in my time. It won't work."

"In your time! Why, Morrison, I'm two years older
than you at least," cried Miss Matfield.

i;And I'm nearly as old as you, Morrison," said Miss
Cadnam. "I'm getting terribly old."

"It isn't just the years, little ones. It's the experience.
You make me feel old with your charming youthful
illusions. However, I'm all for you leading a dashing
worldly life, Matfield. I'm all in favour of you going to
the devil, for that matter. How do you do it, by the way?
I used to hear an awful lot of vague talk about the
temptations of a poor girl's life in London. Where da
they come in? Nobody ever tempts me. The only
temptations I have are to steal some of my worthy
employeress's terribly expensive bath salts when I'm
allowed to enter her bathroom to wash my hands, and—
there must be something else—yes, not to give the bus
conductor my penny when he doesn't ask for it. What
chance have I then to be really virtuous or to be wicked
either? I admit, Matfield, that you're different. You
go down to the great City, to begin with, and meet
mysterious men on romantic ships—"

"When was this?" cried Miss Cadnam, "Did you,
Mattie, or is she making it up?"

"Quiet, child! You will understand in time. And
then again, my dear Matfield, you have a look. I don't
say ^ou look terribly marvellous, my dear—"