ensations, and I own that the ordinary life of
the English Philistine is irksome to me to the last degree; but what
should I do now without a husband and child? And what would I not give
up or bear for them? You see I'm only a very humdrum woman, Mrs.
Malise."

"Whatever I see, I don't despair of winning you over to our side. I
think it only needs that this great movement for woman's freedom and
enlightenment, all that underlies it, all it implies, be fairly brought
before you, to receive your assent and cooeperation. And, to be unwisely
frank, perhaps, it is such women as you we ought to gain, must
gain--women of sentiment, tenderness, tact, suave manner--sympathetic
women, to bring a gracious element into the contest. The workers already
in the field have fought so long, against such odds and obloquy, that it
is no wonder all the softness, conciliation are gone out of them, and
that their aspect and address suggest only warfare, aggressive and
unsparing."

And so on during the call. I wish I could photograph for you Mrs.
Malise's drawing-room. You will not suppose it cumbered with the
ordinary pretty feminine litter; but I can tell you Aunt Janet's
sewing-room couldn't begin to rival it in grim dead-in-earnestness:
straight up and down chairs that mean work; a writing-table big enough
for a board-room, and fitted with suitably mighty writing implements; a
slippery green leather couch upon which no laziness could be so
desperate as to court repose; books lining one wall, and papers, stacks
of papers everywhere--manuscripts and newspapers; no ornaments, unless a
clock, a Cleopatra's needle in black marble, a skull, a wild-eyed,
shock-headed oil portrait of a man I guessed to be the father of my
hostess, and photographs of Mill, Mazzini, and Swinbourne be considered
decorative.

Once at home again, I flew up stairs to Ronayne's dressing-room to run
over his engagement tablet. One of the days named by Mrs. Malise was
clear, so I said quietly at dinner, "Oh, Ronayne, don't make any
engagement for Friday, for we are to dine at the Coming Events New Era
Peep o'Day Associate Club."

"_Plait-il, madame?_"

So I told him all about it. He groaned, made two or three pathetic
observations about grocer's wine, raw meat, greasy, peppered _entrees_,
and the cantankerous woman who would fall to his share at dinner, but
resigned himself like a lamb--or a well-trained husband, which is much
the same thing.

And once I had fairl