labouring men in this very valley."

Aunt Agatha was a clever woman, and could say shrewd things sometimes,
but she never spoke a truer word than this; but my wits were no longer
wool-gathering.

"What a pity you stopped me just then," I remarked, somewhat
sententiously; "we have missed the purest gem of the allegory. 'He that
is down need fear no fall; he that is low no pride.'" But here a hand
was lifted in protesting fashion.

"Put the marker in the page, child, and spare me the rest; that is in
favour of your argument, not mine," for a weary discussion had been
waged between us for two whole hours--a discussion that had driven Aunt
Agatha exhausted to the couch, but which had only given me a tingling
feeling of excitement, such as a raw recruit might experience at the
sight of a battlefield. Aunt Agatha's ladylike ideas lay dead and
wounded round her while I had made that last impetuous charge.

"I am of age, a free Englishwoman, living in a free country, and not all
the nineteenth century prejudices, though they are thick as dragons'
teeth, shall prevent me, Merle Fenton, of sane mind and healthy body,
from doing what I believe to be my duty."

"Humph, I am rather doubtful of the sanity; I always told you that you
were too independent and strong-minded for a girl; but what is the use
of preaching to deaf ears?" continued Aunt Agatha, in a decidedly cross
voice, as she arranged the cushions comfortably.

It was true that I was getting the best of the argument, and yet I was
sorry for Aunt Agatha. I felt how I was shocking all her notions of
decorum and propriety, and giving pain to the kindest and gentlest heart
in the world; but one cannot lead a new crusade without trampling on
some prejudices. I knew all my little world would shriek "fie," and "for
shame" into my ears, and all because I was bent on working out a new
theory. The argument had grown out of such a little thing. I had shown
Aunt Agatha an advertisement in the _Morning Post_, and announced my
intention of answering it in person the following morning.

"NURSE.--Can any lady recommend a thoroughly conscientious superior
person to take charge of two children, baby eighteen months old?
Assistance given in the nursery. Must be a good, plain needlewoman.
Prince's Gate, S.W."

To the last day of my life I do not think that I shall ever forget Aunt
Agatha's face when she read that advertisement.

"You intend to offer yourself for this situation, Mer