e mind. I am so used to
that sort of spirit among women. Apparently I have caught the
infection."

"I would not let it go farther," advised the Professor.

"To do myself justice, I think it is superficial," said Hadria with a
laugh. "I would dare anything, _any_thing for a chance of freedom,
for----," she broke off, hesitating. "I remember once--years ago, when I
was quite a girl--seeing a young ash-tree that had got jammed into a
chink so that it couldn't grow straight, or spread, as its inner soul,
poor stripling, evidently inspired it to grow. Outside, there were
hundreds of upright, vigorous, healthful young trees, fulfilling that
innate idea in apparent gladness, and with obvious general advantage,
since they were growing into sound, valuable trees, straight of trunk,
nobly developed. I felt like the poor sapling in the cranny, that had
just the same natural impetus of healthy growth as all the others, but
was forced to become twisted, and crooked, and stunted and wretched. I
think most women have to grow in a cranny. It is generally known as
their Sphere." Algitha gave an approving chuckle. "I noticed," Hadria
added, "that the desperate struggle to grow of that young tree had begun
to loosen the masonry of the edifice that cramped it. There was a great
dangerous-looking crack right across the building. The tree was not
saved from deformity, _but_ it had its revenge! Some day that noble
institution would come down by the run."

"Yes. Well, the thing to do is to get out of it," said the Professor.

"You really advise that?"

"Advise? One dare not advise. It is too perilous. No general theories
will hold in all instances."

"Tell me," said Hadria, "what are the qualities in a human being that
make him most serviceable, or least harmful?"

"What qualities?" Professor Fortescue watched the smoke of his pipe
curling away, as if he expected to find the answer in its coils. He
answered slowly, and with an air of reflection.

"Mental integrity, and mercy. A resolute following of reason (in which I
should include insight) to its conclusion, though the heavens fall, and
an unfailing fellow-feeling for the pain and struggle and heart-ache and
sin that life is so full of. But one must add the quality of
imagination. Without imagination and its fruits, the world would be a
howling wilderness."

"I wish you would come down with me, some day, to the East End and hold
out the hand of fellowship to some of the sufferers