ose. I fail to grasp it. Will you
explain?"

"You said that Delphine was not a woman. If that is so, it's her
husband's fault--and yours! And every other man's with whom she comes
in contact. You all treat her like a child, and expect her to behave as
a child, and then turn round and abuse her because she dances to your
tune."

"Excuse me. Who abuses her?"

"You did. You said--"

"I said she was a charming child of whom I was very fond. Is that
abuse?"

"In the--er--the connection in which you used it--in the way in which
you said it, and meant it, and avoided saying something else--yes, it
is."

For a moment he looked as if he were going to laugh, then met my eyes,
thought better of it, and grunted instead.

"Sorry. Again I don't quite follow. But no doubt it is my illogical
mind. I should be interested to know in what way you hold me
responsible for Delphine's shortcomings?"

"I have just told you. You treat her as a child who must be fed on
sweetmeats, and bribed with treats and diversions; conversationally you
talk down to her level. It never occurs to you to expect her to be in
earnest about any one thing."

"Well?"

"Well! Isn't that enough? Can't you see how such an attitude must
affect her character and development?"

"No, I can't. To my mind it wouldn't matter what the whole world
thought. For good or ill, I stand for myself. What other people
happened to think about me wouldn't affect me one jot."

I said loftily:--

"You are a man. Women are different. We _do_ care. We _are_ affected.
That's why it is so dreadfully important that we should be understood.
I know it by experience. In different surroundings, with different
people, I myself am two or three totally different women--"

He asked no questions, but looked at me, silent, expectant, and lured by
that fatal love of talking about oneself which exists in so many
feminine hearts, I fell into the trap, and prattled thoughtlessly on:--

"At home with my younger sister, I was the one who had all the
responsibility and management. She depended on me. I was the Autocrat
of the Household, and everything I said was law."

"You would like that?"

I gave him a withering glance.

"Pray what makes you think so?"

"You like your own way, don't you? I--er--I have received that
impression."

"I was about to add," I said coldly, "that, since I have lived at
`Pastimes,' I have not had my own way at all. I have not want