ncing speech. She has used it admirably for many admirable causes--
and quite as ably for other causes that I esteem less. But that, you
understand, is my personal point of view. Her chief interest, however,
has been the so-called advancement of women, and you might describe
her as one of the many inconspicuous promoters of that movement.
Chiefly, at present, she is holding classes, giving parlor-talks,
what-not, in which she paraphrases and popularizes the ideas of her
leaders. Her personality, though winning, does not {167} carry far,
and she is only effective before a handful of people. Her--her
conversation is possibly more convincing because it is less
susceptible of close examination than the written word. But I do not
wish to be unjust."

"Then I take it mother is not scholarly?" asked the girl of academic
training.

"She is not taken seriously--by the serious," the professor admitted.
"You know, Marvel, there are women who are--who are dearly
enthusiastic about the future of the race, who really are not in a
position to do advanced thinking about it. Of course there are others
of whom I would not venture to make such an assertion, but in my
judgment your mother belongs to the former class. You will form your
own opinion upon the subject. Do not go to her with any bias in your
mind. She {168} is sincere. Her passion for humanity is doubtless
real, but it seems to me that her erratic spirit has turned it into a
channel where it is ineffective. In any case she is an attractive
woman. A winter with her should be interesting."

His daughter eyed him gravely. There were depths of reserve in her
face and voice. She had felt much, and said little, about this mother
whom they were discussing thus dispassionately. Perhaps it gratified
her young dignity that she was able to consider with apparent
detachment the woman of whom she had thought long in secret with
bitter, blinding tears.

"It is, as you say, a thing to consider," she observed gently. "I may
be mistaken in deciding offhand that I will not go. I'll think it
over, father dear."

{169}

Professor Charleroy rose, visibly pulling himself together. Crossing
the room, he picked up the letter Marvel had dropped and handed it to
her.

"I also may be mistaken," he said, "in my first feeling about the
matter. Yet I think not. But we will not decide hastily."

When he left the room, Marvel partly closed the door and turned to her
stepmother.

"Now, Evelyn, yo