tice.'

'Oh, I don't mean that kind of beating. I mean getting the prizes their
own boys contended for; getting above them in class; showing superior
powers in running or cricket or swimming, or in any of the forms of
effort in which boys vie with each other.' The girl reflected, then she
spoke:

'Well, you may be right. I don't altogether admit it, but I accept it as
not on my side. But this is only one case.'

'A pretty common one. Do you think that Sheriff of Galway, who in
default of a hangman hanged his son with his own hands, would have done
so if he had been a woman?' The girl answered at once:

'Frankly, no. I don't suppose the mother was ever born who would do such
a thing. But that is not a common case, is it? Have you any other?' The
young man paused before he spoke:

'There is another, but I don't think I can go into it fairly with you.'

'Why not?'

'Well, because after all you know, Stephen, you are only a girl and you
can't be expected to know.' The girl laughed:

'Well, if it's anything about women surely a girl, even of my tender age,
must know something more of it, or be able to guess at, than any young
man can. However, say what you think and I'll tell you frankly if I
agree--that is if a woman can be just, in such a matter.'

'Shortly the point is this: Can a woman be just to another woman, or to a
man for the matter of that, where either her own affection or a fault of
the other is concerned?'

'I don't see any reason to the contrary. Surely pride alone should
ensure justice in the former case, and the consciousness of superiority
in the other.' The young man shook his head:

'Pride and the consciousness of superiority! Are they not much the same
thing. But whether or no, if either of them has to be relied on, I'm
afraid the scales of Justice would want regulating, and her sword should
be blunted in case its edge should be turned back on herself. I have an
idea that although pride might be a guiding principle with you
individually, it would be a failure with the average. However, as it
would be in any case a rule subject to many exceptions I must let it go.'

Harold looked at his watch and rose. Stephen followed him; transferring
her whip into the hand which held up the skirt, she took his arm with her
right hand in the pretty way in which a young girl clings to her elders.
Together they went out at the lich-gate. The groom drew over with the
horses. Stephen patted