'I will go home with them,' she said. 'There is plenty of work here
for somebody; I could almost hope that it won't prove ours.'
'It will,' replied Rhoda, with a stifled sigh. 'There is an old
Eastern legend about the black camel that comes and lies down before
the door of him upon whom Heaven is going to lay her chastening hand.
Every time I have seen that awful trio on the fence-top, they were
fairly surrounded by black camels in my imagination. Mistress Mary,
I am not sure but that, in self-defence, we ought to become a highly
specialised SOMETHING. We are now a home, a mother, a nursery, a
labour bureau, a divorce court, a registry of appeals, a soup
kitchen, an advisory hoard, and a police force. If we take HER, what
shall we be?'
'We will see first where she belongs,' smiled Mary. (Nobody could
help smiling at Rhoda.) 'Somebody has been neglecting his or her
duty. If we can make that somebody realise his delinquencies, all
the better, for the responsibility will not be ours. If we cannot,
why, the case is clear enough and simple enough in my mind. We
certainly do not want "Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin" written over
this, of all doors.'
Rhoda's hand went up to an imaginary cap in a gesture of military
obedience.
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