Betty put in two or three years at The Priory on and off, occupying herself chiefly with writing. But the wanderlust had got into her blood, and her book finished she grew restless.
One day Anthony and Eleanor had dined with her at The Priory. Eleanor had run away immediately after dinner to attend a committee meeting of the Children's Holiday Society of which she was the president. Betty, she was sure, sympathized sufficiently with the movement to forgive her. She would be back soon after nine. Betty and Anthony took their coffee in the library.
"I wanted you both to come tonight," she explained. "I've got into a habit of acting suddenly when an impulse seizes me. I may wake up any morning and feel I've got to go."
"Whither?" he asked.
"How much money can I put my hands on within the next few months?" she asked.
She had warned him that she might be talking business. He mentioned a pretty considerable sum.
"All earned by the sweat of other people's brows," she commented with a smile.
"You give away a pretty good deal of it," he reminded her consolingly.
