"They die by the wayside."
There fell a brief silence, then impetuously Dinah spoke, urged by the
fulness of her heart. "I think we all feel like that sometimes. I know at
home it's just like being in a cage. Nothing ever happens worth
mentioning. And then quite suddenly the door is opened and out we come.
That's partly why I am enjoying everything so much," she explained. "But
it won't be a bit nice going back."
"What about your mother?" said Scott.
Dinah's bright face clouded again. "Yes, of course, there's Mother," she
agreed.
She looked across at Scott as if she would say more; but he passed
quietly on. "Where is your home, Miss Bathurst?"
"Right in the very heart of the Midlands. It is pretty country, but oh,
so dull. The de Vignes are the rich people of the place. They belong to
the County. We don't," said Dinah, with a sigh.
Scott laughed, and she looked momentarily hurt.
"I don't see what there is funny in that. The County people and the shop
people are the only ones that get any fun. It's horrid to be between the
two."
"Forgive me!" Scott said. "I quite see your point. But if you only knew
it, the people who call themselves County are often the dullest of the
dull."
"You say that because you belong to them, I expect," retorted Dinah. "But
if you were me, and lived always under the shadow of the de Vignes, you
wouldn't think it a bit funny.
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