too, yet I should not think that Miss Rennie does so; and as she is the
author, I am imagining her feelings. What is this other piece
called?--'Life's Journey.' What can Miss Rennie know of life's
journey--staying at home with her father and mother all her short life?"

"If she had been to Australia and back again, she would have been
entitled to speak on the subject," said Elsie.

"But really it is a very pretty piece, after all," said Mr. Brandon,
after he had read it.

"Though written by one who has never been further from home than
Glasgow in her life," said Elsie.

"I do not mean that Miss Rennie's never being out of Scotland should
make her know little; but you young ladies are taken such care of, that
you know very little of what life really is."

"It must be a disadvantage to all female authors," said Elsie, "to know
so little of business and so little of the world. I do not wonder at
men despising women's books."

"Now, Miss Melville, have I really said anything that you should put
such a construction on? If I have, I must ask pardon. I am only
astonished at the extraordinary talent which your sex show in turning
to account their few opportunities; and for my part, I should not like
them to have greater means of knowing the world. I am not a reading
man, by any means. My remarks about books are perfectly worthless, but
I can only say that I think these verses very pretty. I don't know
whether they are subjective or objective--transcendental or
sentimental. In fact, between ourselves, I do not know what the three
first words mean. I can give no reason for my liking them."

"But they please you," said Elsie; "and that is all a poet can wish."

"Oh, I thought the poets of this age gave themselves out as the
teachers of the world; but you take a lower view. I am glad to meet
with some one who is reasonable. The young ladies have all got so
clever, so accomplished, and so scientific since I left England, that I
am a little afraid of them. I hope you are not very accomplished."

"Not at all," said Elsie.

"Don't you play the most brilliant music with great execution?"

"I do not play at all."

"Nor sketch from nature--nor draw from the round--nor paint flowers?"

"Nothing of the kind."

"Then you must have gone in for science, and you are more formidable
than any of the sex."

"My uncle wished me to go in for science, but unluckily I came out
without acquiring it."

"How glad I am to hear it! I c