is a man."

"Yet you wish to be treated as a woman?" queried Mr. Morgan.

"Of course. Do you think I want to banish romance out of the world?"

"You are right, my dear," said my wife. "The only thing that makes
society any better than an industrial ant-hill is the love between women
and men, blind and destructive as it often is."

"Well," said Mrs. Morgan, rising to go, "having got back to first
principles--"

"You think it is best to take your husband home before he denies even
them," Mr. Morgan added.

When the others had gone, Margaret sat by the fire, musing, as if no
one else were in the room. The Englishman, still alert and eager for
information, regarded her with growing interest. It came into my mind
as odd that, being such an uninteresting people as we are, the English
should be so curious about us. After an interval, Mr. Lyon said:

"I beg your pardon, Miss Debree, but would you mind telling me whether
the movement of Women's Rights is gaining in America?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Mr. Lyon," Margaret replied, after a pause, with
a look of weariness. "I'm tired of all the talk about it. I wish men and
women, every soul of them, would try to make the most of themselves, and
see what would come of that."

"But in some places they vote about schools, and you have conventions--"

"Did you ever attend any kind of convention yourself, Mr. Lyon?"

"I? No. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Neither did I. But you have a right to, you know. I should
like to ask you one question, Mr. Lyon," the girl, continued, rising.

"Should be most obliged."

"Why is it that so few English women marry Americans?"

"I--I never thought of that," he stammered, reddening. "Perhaps--perhaps
it's because of American women."

"Thank you," said Margaret, with a little courtesy. "It's very nice of
you to say that. I can begin to see now why so many American women marry
Englishmen."

The Englishman blushed still more, and Margaret said good-night.

It was quite evident the next day that Margaret had made an impression
on our visitor, and that he was struggling with some new idea.

"Did you say, Mrs. Fairchild," he asked my wife, "that Miss Debree is a
teacher? It seems very odd."

"No; I said she taught in one of our schools. I don't think she is
exactly a teacher."

"Not intending always to teach?"

"I don't suppose she has any definite intentions, but I never think of
her as a teacher."

"She's so bright, and--and interesting