you said 'growed,' Mrs. Tallboys, it would be more consistent,"
said Jenny. "Her creation and her purpose in the world stand upon
precisely the same authority."

"I wonder at you, Miss Bowater," said Mrs. Tallboys. "I cannot
understand a woman trying to depreciate her sex."

"No," thrust in Gussie Moy; "I want to know why a woman can't go
about without a dowager waddling after her" ("Thank you," breathed
Lady Tyrrell into Herbert's ear), "nor go to a club."

"There was such a club proposed in London," said Captain Duncombe,
"and do you know, Gussie, the name of it?"

"No!"

"The Middlesex Club!"

"There! it is just as Mrs. Tallboys said; you will do nothing but
laugh at us, or else talk sentiment about our refining you. Now, I
want to be free to amuse myself."

"I don't think those trifling considerations will be great
impediments in your way," said Lady Tyrrell in her blandest tone.
"Is that actually the carriage? Thank you, Mrs. Tallboys. This is
good-bye, I believe. I am sorry there has not been more time for a
fuller exposition to-night."

"There would have been, but I never was so interrupted," said Mrs.
Tallboys in an undertone, with a displeased look at Jenny at the
other end of the room.

Declamation was evidently more the Muse's forte than argument, but
her aside was an aside, and that of the jockey friend was not. "So
you waited for us to give your part of the lecture, Miss Moy?"

"Of course. What's the use of talking to a set of women and
parsons, who are just the same?"

Poor Herbert's indignant flush infinitely amused the party who were
cloaking in the hall. "Poor Gussie; her tongue runs fast," said
Mrs. Duncombe.

"Emancipated!" said Jenny. "Good-bye, Mrs. Duncombe. Please let us
be educated up to our privileges before we get them."

"A Parthian shot, Jenny," said Julius, as they gave her a homeward
lift in the carriage. "You proved yourself the fittest memberess
for the future parliament to-night."

"To be elected by the women and parsons," said Jenny, with little
chuckle of fun. "Poor Herbert!"

"I only wish that girl was a man that I might horsewhip her," the
clerical sentiment growled out from Herbert's corner of the
carriage. "Degradation of her sex! She's a standing one!"

CHAPTER XX
Vivienne

Of all the old women that ever I saw,
Sweet bad luck to my mother in law.--Irish Song

The Parliamentary Session had reached the stage that is ended by no
power