e everything that way."

"That's natural, of course," said he, with a slight smile, "but after
all it's rather a woman's way of judging things than a sociologist's.
Isn't it?"

"But I am a woman."

The car shook off the dust of the business district, mounted a long
hill, bowled into streets fairer than Canal. Hugo's sense of a grievance
deepened. Granted that she had nearly fainted, as a consequence of her
own foolish perversity, it was surely now due to him that she should
begin to be her sweet natural self again.

He had had quite enough of this irrational invasion of his afternoon;
and so, having said just a word or two in reply to her last remark, he
banished the matter from the conversation.

"Now," said he, "to fresh woods and pastures new, and a song of the open
road!... Which way shall we go?"

Cally hesitated.

"I'm sorry, Hugo--but I think I should like to go home, if you don't
mind."

"_Home?_"

"I really don't feel quite like a drive now. I'm very sorry--"

Canning gazed down at her in dismay.

"I knew you didn't feel quite yourself yet. You couldn't deceive
_me_ ... But don't let's go _home!_ Why, this air is the very thing
you need, Carlisle. It will set you up in no time."

But no, she seemed to think that was not what she needed, nor were her
doubts removed by several further arguments from him.

Canning sat back in the care with an Early Christian expression. She had
said, not five minutes ago, that she felt perfectly well; perfectly well
she looked. Was it imaginable that she really took seriously the absurd
little smatterings of new-womanism she had picked up, God knew where,
while waiting for love to come?...

"Carlisle," he began, patiently, "I understand your feelings perfectly,
of course, and natural enough they are to a girl brought up as you've
been. At the same time, I'm not willing to leave you feeling disgusted
with your father's methods of--"

"Disgusted with papa!" exclaimed Cally, quite indignantly. But she
added, in a much more tempered tone: "Why, Hugo--how could you think
such a thing?... I assure you I'm disgusted with nobody on earth
but myself."

At that the annoyed young man gave a light laugh.

"I'm evidently about fifty years before the war, as you say down here. I
can't understand, to save me, how--"

"I know it, Hugo. You never understand how I feel about things, and
always assume that I'll feel the way you want me to."

Carlisle spoke quietly, almost g