r ability or their
bent of mind. May I ask why?"

"Because I consider that is the kind of work for which they are best
fitted," replied Temperley serenely.

"Then _you_ are to be judge and jury in the case; _your_ opinion,
not theirs, is to decide the matter. Supposing _I_ were to take upon
myself to judge what _you_ were best fitted for, and were to claim,
therefore, to decide for you what sort of life you should live, and what
sort of work you should undertake----?"

"I should feel every confidence in resigning myself to your able judgment,"
said Temperley, with a low bow. Miss Du Prel laughed.

"Ah," she said, "you are at present, on the conquering side, and can afford
to jest on the subject."

"It is no joke to jest with an able woman," he returned. "Seriously, I
have considerable sympathy with your view, and no wish to treat it
flippantly. But if I am to treat it seriously, I must admit frankly that
I think you forget that, after all, _Nature_ has something to say in
this matter."

Engrossed in their conversation, they had, without thinking what they
were doing, passed through the open gate at the end of the avenue, and
walked on along the high road.

Swarms of small birds flew out of the hedges, with a whirring sound, to
settle further on, while an incessant chatter was kept up on each side.

"I often think that modern women might take example from these little
creatures," said Temperley, who, in common with many self-sufficient
persons, was fond of recommending humility to others. "_They_ never
attempt to shirk their lowly tasks on the plea of higher vocations. Not
one turns from the path marked out by our great Mother, who also teaches
her human children the same lesson of patient duty; but, alas! by them
is less faithfully obeyed."

"If our great Mother wanted instinct she should not have bestowed
reason," said Miss Du Prel impatiently.

Temperley had fallen into the dulcet strains of one who feels, not only
that he stands as the champion of true wisdom and virtue, but that he is
sure of support from the vast majority of his fellows. Miss Du Prel's
brusqueness seemed to suit her less admirable _role_.

Temperley was tolerant and regretful. If Miss Du Prel would think for a
moment, she could not fail to see that Nature ... and so forth, in the
same strain of "pious devotion to other people's duties" as his
companion afterwards described it. She chafed at the exhortation to
"think for a moment."