"That's the
solidest thing I've ever been up against."
Mrs. McCormick left them to call upon a friend who lived next door, Karl
and Mr. Tank turned to frenzied finance, and Georgia and Ernestine
wandered away by themselves--Ernestine surmised that Georgia wanted to
talk to her.
"How goes it at _The Mail_?" she asked.
"Oh--so so," said Georgia fretfully. "Newspaper work is a thankless job."
"Why, Georgia, I thought you loved it so."
"Oh, yes,--yes, in a way, I do. But it's thankless. And you never get
anywhere. You break your neck one day, and then there's nothing to do the
next, but start in and break it again. You're never any better to-day for
yesterday's killing. Now with you--when you paint a good picture, it
stays painted."
"Why don't you get married?" asked Ernestine, innocently.
"Married! Pooh--that would be a nice thing!"
"Indeed it would. If you care for the man."
Georgia was fidgeting; it was plain she wanted to talk about marriage, if
she could do so without seeming to be vitally interested in the subject.
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