ducated than we
ourselves; for we bring any amount of sense and modern ideas to work on
their teaching, while our own prehistorical methods are left severely
alone. I believe the boys who come to working age now are better taught
than I was at my grammar school. I wish I knew more."

"Yet we see education may run us into great dangers," said Jenny
Ironsyde. "It can be pushed to a perilous point. One even hears a murmur
against the Bible in the schools. It makes my blood run cold. And we
need not look farther than dear Estelle to see the peril."

"What do you think of Estelle?" he asked. "I almost welcome this stupid
collapse, nuisance though it is, because it's made a sort of
resting-place and brought me nearer to you and Estelle. You've both been
so kind. A man such as I am, is so busy and absorbed that he forgets
all about women; then suddenly lying on his back--done for and
useless--he finds they don't forget all about him."

"You ask what I think about Estelle?" she said. "I never think about
Estelle--no more than I do about the sunshine, or my comfortable bed, or
my tea. She's just one of the precious things I take for granted. I love
her. She is a great deal to me, and the hours she spends with a rather
old-fashioned and cross-grained woman are the happiest hours I know."

"I'm like her father," he said. "I give Estelle best. Nothing can spoil
her, because she's so utterly uninterested in herself. Another thing:
she's so fair--almost morbidly fair. The only thing that makes her
savage is injustice. If she sees an injustice, she won't leave it alone
if it's in her power to alter it. That's her father in her. What he
calls 'sporting,' she calls 'justice.' And, of course, the essence of
sport is justice, if you think it out."

"I don't know anything about sport, but I suppose I have to thank
cricket for your company at present. As for Estelle. I think she has a
great idea of your judgment and opinion."

He laughed.

"If she does, it's probably because I generally agree with her.
Besides--"

He broke off and lighted a cigarette.

"'Besides' what?" asked the lady.

"Well--oh I hardly know. I'm tremendously fond of her. Perhaps I've
taken her too much as you say we take the sun and our meat and drink--as
a matter of course. Yes, like the sun, and as unapproachable."

Miss Ironsyde considered.

"I suppose you're right. I can well imagine that to the average man a
'Una,' such as Estelle, may seem rather una