e and that pointed finger have cowed him.

"One's views _have_ to be extreme in these days if one would continue in
the paths of virtue," said Miss Majendie. "_Your_ views," with a
piercing and condemnatory glance, "are evidently _not_ extreme. One word
for all, Mr. Curzon, and this argument is at an end. I shall not permit
my niece, with my permission, to walk with you or any other man whilst
under my protection."

"I daresay you are right--no doubt--no doubt," mumbles the professor,
incoherently, now thoroughly frightened and demoralized. Good heavens!
What an awful old woman! And to think that this poor child is under her
care. He happens at this moment to look at the poor child, and the scorn
_for him_ that gleams in her large eyes perfects his rout. To say that
she was _right_!

"If Perpetua wishes to go for a walk," says Miss Majendie, breaking
through a mist of angry feeling that is only half on the surface, "I am
here to accompany her."

"I don't want to go for a walk--with you," says Perpetua, rudely it must
be confessed, though her tone is low and studiously reserved. "I don't
want to go for a walk _at all_." She pauses, and her voice chokes a
little, and then suddenly she breaks into a small passion of vehemence.
"I want to go somewhere, to _see_ something," she cries, gazing
imploringly at Curzon.

"To _see_ something!" says her aunt, "why it was only last Sunday I took
you to Westminster Abbey, where you saw the grandest edifice in all the
world."

"Most interesting place," says the professor, _sotto voce_, with a wild
but mad hope of smoothing matters down for Perpetua's sake.

If it _was_ for Perpetua's sake, she proves herself singularly
ungrateful. She turns upon him a small vivid face, alight with
indignation.

"You support her," cries she. "_You!_ Well, I shall tell you!
I"--defiantly--"I don't want to go to churches at all. I want to go to
_theatres_! There!"

There is an awful silence. Miss Majendie's face is a picture! If the
girl had said she wanted to go to the devil instead of to the theatre,
she could hardly have looked more horrified. She takes a step forward,
closer to Perpetua.

"Go to your room! And pray--_pray_ for a purer mind!" says she. "This is
hereditary, all this! Only prayer can cast it out. And remember, this is
the last word upon this subject. As long as you are under _my_ roof you
shall never go to a sinful place of amusement. I forbid you ever to
speak of theatres