Page:The Yellow Book - 08.djvu/214

"I like teaching, yes," she went on gravely. "But all the same I am glad that I only teach for my living and can draw for my pleasure. Now whatever made me tell you that I wonder?"

"It was awfully decent of you to tell me," he said; "I suppose you thought I should be interested, eh?"

"I suppose I did," she assented, and this time she laughed for no reason whatever.

"Will you let me say something very personal?" he asked, waxing bolder. But his tone was still humble, and she felt more kindly towards him now that he evidently knew she was not to be patronised. Besides, she was curious. So she said nothing to dissuade him, and he went on.

"Why do you look so beastly happy, and all that, don't you know? Is it because you work so hard?"

"I look happy!" she exclaimed. "I suppose it is the sun, then, or the jolly day, or—or the feel of everything after the rain. Yes, I suppose it must be that."

"I don't, then. Lots of girls might feel all that and not look as you do. I think it is because you have such a bally lot to do."

"I should stop thinking that, if I were you," said Jean a little bitterly; "I know that is the usual idea about women who work—among those who don't. They should try it for a time, and see."

"I believe you are cynical after all," observed her companion. "Don't you like being called happy?"

"Oh, yes, I like it. But I hate humbug, and it is all nonsense to pretend that working hard for one's living is rather an amusing thing to do. Because it isn't, and if it has never been so for a man, why should it be for a woman? If anything, it is worse for women. For one happy hour it gives us two sad ones; itmakes