"Real ecclesiastical tyranny with pure traditions. One wonders what
America will do with those friars, when she does take hold there."
"Do you think she is going to?" asked Alicia, vaguely. It was the merest
politeness--she did not wait for a reply. With a courageous air which
became her charmingly she went on, "Don't you long to submit yourself to
London? I should."
"Oh, I must. I know I must. It's in the path of duty and
conscience--it's not to be put off forever. But one dreads the chained
slavery of London"--she hesitated before the audacity of adding, "the
sordid hundred nights," but Alicia divined it, and caught her breath as
if she watched the other woman make a hazardous leap.
"You are magnificently sure," she said. Alicia herself felt curiously
buoyed up and capable, conscious of vague intuitions of immediate
achievement. The lunch-table still lay between the two, but it had
become in a manner intangible; the selves of them had drawn together,
and regarded each other with absorbent eyes. In Hilda's there was an
instant of consideration before she said:
"I might as well tell you--you won't misunderstand--that I am sure. I
expect things of myself.
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