"As some other countries? Yes, that is not the least of its charms."
"But it is all very dear, is it not?"
"Europe, you mean?"
"Going there and travelling. That has been the trouble. I have very little money. I give lessons," said Miss Spencer.
"Of course one must have money," I said, "but one can manage with a moderate amount."
"I think I should manage. I have laid something by, and I am always adding a little to it. It's all for that." She paused a moment, and then went on with a kind of suppressed eagerness, as if telling me the story were a rare, but a possibly impure satisfaction. "But it has not been only the money; it has been everything. Everything has been against it. I have waited and waited. It has been a mere castle in the air. I am almost afraid to talk about it. Two or three times it has been a little nearer, and then I have talked about it and it has melted away. I have talked about it too much," she said hypocritically; for I saw that such talking was now a small tremulous ecstasy. "There is a lady who is a great friend of mine; she does n't want to go; I always talk to her about it. I tire her dreadfully. She told me once she did n't know what would become of me. I should go crazy if I did not go to Europe, and I should certainly go crazy if I did."
"Well," I said, "you have not gone yet, and nevertheless you are not crazy."
