uch devoted to their
closets, let them keep their work ever so closely veiled from public
scrutiny, still find themselves subjected to criticism, and under
the necessity of either defending themselves or of succumbing. If,
indeed, a man neither speaks, nor writes,--if he be dumb as regards
opinion,--he passes simply as one of the crowd, and is in the way
neither of convincing nor of being convinced; but a woman may speak,
and almost write, as she likes, without danger of being wounded by
sustained conflict. Who would have the courage to begin with such a
one as Miss Petrie, and endeavour to prove to her that she is wrong
from the beginning? A little word of half-dissent, a smile, a shrug,
and an ambiguous compliment which is misunderstood, are all the forms
of argument which can be used against her. Wallachia Petrie, in
her heart of hearts, conceived that she had fairly discussed her
great projects from year to year with indomitable eloquence and
unanswerable truth,--and that none of her opponents had had a leg
to stand upon. And this she believed because the chivalry of men
had given to her sex that protection against which her life was one
continued protest.

"Here he is," said Caroline, as Mr. Glascock came up to them. "Try
and say a civil word to him, if he speaks about it. Though he is to
be a lord, still he is a man and a brother."

"Caroline," said the stern monitress, "you are already learning to
laugh at principles which have been dear to you since you left your
mother's breast. Alas, how true it is, 'You cannot touch pitch and
not be defiled.'"

The further progress of these friendly and feminine amenities was
stopped by the presence of the gentleman who had occasioned them.
"Miss Petrie," said the hero of the hour, "Caroline was to tell you
of my good fortune, and no doubt she has done so."

"I cannot wait to hear the pretty things he has to say," said
Caroline, "and I must look after my aunt's guests. There is poor
Signor Buonarosci without a soul to say a syllable to him, and I must
go and use my ten Italian words."

"You are about to take with you to your old country, Mr. Glascock,"
said Miss Petrie, "one of the brightest stars in our young American
firmament." There could be no doubt, from the tone of Miss Petrie's
voice, that she now regarded this star, however bright, as one of a
sort which is subjected to falling.

"I am going to take a very nice young woman," said Mr. Glascock.

"I hate that