imulation being over, all
the delightful mystery will have vanished," said Professor Theobald. "I
should tire, in a day, of a woman I could understand."

"You tempt one to enquire the length of the reign of a satisfactory
enigma," cried Lady Engleton.

"Precisely the length of her ability to mystify me," he replied.

"Your future wife ought to be given a hint."

"Oh! a wife, in no case, could hold me: the mere fact that it was my
duty to adore her, would be chilling. And when added to that, I knew
that she had placed it among the list of her obligations to adore
_me_--well, that would be the climax of disenchantment."

Hubert commended his wisdom in not marrying.

"The only person I could conceivably marry would be my cook; in that
case there would be no romance to spoil, no vision to destroy."

"I fear this is a cloak for a poor opinion of our sex, Professor."

"On the contrary. I admire your sex too much to think of subjecting them
to such an ordeal. I could not endure to regard a woman I had once
admired, as a matter of course, a commonplace in my existence."

Henriette plunged headlong into the fray, in opposition to the
Professor's heresy. The conversation became general.

Professor Theobald fell out of it. He was furtively watching Hadria,
whose eyes were strangely bright. She was sitting on the arm of a seat,
listening to the talk, with a little smile on her lips. Her hand clasped
the back of the seat rigidly, as if she were holding something down.

The qualities and defects of the female character were frankly
canvassed, each view being held with fervour, but expressed with
urbanity. Women were _always_ so and so; women were absolutely _never_
so and so: women felt, without exception, thus and thus; on the
contrary, they were entirely devoid of such sentiments. A large
experience and wide observation always supported each opinion, and
eminent authorities swarmed to the standard.

"I do think that women want breadth of view," said Lady Engleton.

"They sometimes want accuracy of statement," observed Professor
Theobald, with a possible second meaning in his words.

"It seems to me they lack concentration. They are too versatile," was
Hubert's comment.

"They want a sense of honour," was asserted.

"And a sense of humour," some one added.

"They want a feeling of public duty."

"They want a spice of the Devil!" exclaimed Hadria.

There was a laugh.

Hubert thought this was a lack not likely