good or a pitiful impulse!" she cried
with passion.

She went to the window and stood leaning against the casement, with
crossed arms.

Henriette turned round in her chair.

"Why do you always resist your better nature, Hadria?"

"You use it against me. It is the same with all women. Let them beware
of their 'better natures,' poor hunted fools! for that 'better nature'
will be used as a dog-chain, by which they can be led, like
toy-terriers, from beginning to end of what they are pleased to call
their lives!"

"Oh, Hadria, Hadria!" cried Miss Temperley with deep regret in her tone.

But Hadria was only roused by the remonstrance.

"It is cunning, shallow, heartless women, who really fare best in our
society; its conditions suit them. _They_ have no pity, no sympathy to
make a chain of; _they_ don't mind stooping to conquer; _they_ don't
mind playing upon the weaker, baser sides of men's natures; _they_ don't
mind appealing, for their own ends, to the pity and generosity of
others; _they_ don't mind swallowing indignity and smiling abjectly,
like any woman of the harem at her lord, so that they gain their object.
_That_ is the sort of 'woman's nature' that our conditions are busy
selecting. Let us cultivate it. We live in a scientific age; the fittest
survive. Let us be 'fit.'"

"Let us be womanly, let us do our duty, let us hearken to our
conscience!" cried Henriette.

"Thank you! If my conscience is going to be made into a helm by which
others may guide me according to their good pleasure, the sooner that
helm is destroyed the better. That is the conclusion to which you drive
me and the rest of us, Henriette."

"Charity demands that I do not believe what you say," said Miss
Temperley.

"Oh, don't trouble to be charitable!"

Henriette heaved a deep sigh. "Hadria," she said, "are you going to
allow your petty rancour about this--well, I will call it error of ours,
if you like to be severe--are you going to bear malice and ruin your own
life and Hubert's and the children's? Are you so unforgiving, so lacking
in generosity?"

"_You_ call it an error. _I_ call it a treachery," returned Hadria. "Why
should the results of that treachery be thrust on to _my_ shoulders to
bear? Why should _my_ generosity be summoned to your rescue? But I
suppose you calculated on that sub-consciously, at the time."

"_Hadria!_"

"This is a moment for plain speaking, if ever there was one. You must
have reckoned on an appeal