Recollecting her great phrase, she determined to be as fundamental as possible in her study of this interesting branch of sociology. She herself would become, for a week, or a month if necessary, a harvester. On her way home she ordered a rough tweed skirt to reach a little above her ankles; a blue serge bodice; a shawl for her shoulders, and two large red handkerchiefs—one to cover her head, the other to carry her change of clothes. She also bought two pairs of the roughest knitted stockings, thick boots, and—this was, indeed, fundamental,—an irreducible minimum of cheap flannelette underclothing. This she felt must be the proper outfit; but to complete her fitness for her task, she called on the woman who supplied her with milk, and learnt from a servant girl the Irish for "God bless you."
One great difficulty presented itself as the day of the steamer's departure drew near. She feared that if she walked through the streets of Ardnamore in her new custome a crowd would follow her, and she would be made to appear ridiculous. The Archdeacon might, of course, drive her to the quay in the carriage, and escort her, heavily cloaked, on board the steamer. But she disliked taking him into her confidence. He would be certain to oppose her plan. Besides, it would be hardly fair to ask his help. It was one thing for an Archdeacon afterwards to bask in the reflected glory of a wife who had proved her eminence as a fundamental sociologist—
