It was true that I was getting the best of the argument, and yet I was
sorry for Aunt Agatha. I felt how I was shocking all her notions of
decorum and propriety, and giving pain to the kindest and gentlest heart
in the world; but one cannot lead a new crusade without trampling on
some prejudices. I knew all my little world would shriek "fie," and "for
shame" into my ears, and all because I was bent on working out a new
theory. The argument had grown out of such a little thing. I had shown
Aunt Agatha an advertisement in the _Morning Post_, and announced my
intention of answering it in person the following morning.
"NURSE.--Can any lady recommend a thoroughly conscientious superior
person to take charge of two children, baby eighteen months old?
Assistance given in the nursery. Must be a good, plain needlewoman.
Prince's Gate, S.W."
To the last day of my life I do not think that I shall ever forget Aunt
Agatha's face when she read that advertisement.
"You intend to offer yourself for this situation, Merle--to lose caste,
and take your place among menials? It is enough to make my poor brother
rise in his grave, and your poor, dear mother too, to think of a Fenton
stooping to such degradation.
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