e shot
things at him like a man talking to another man who had plenty of sense
but not a particle of reason. She gave him the reason. She told him
exactly why, and how, and where, and also just WHAT he must do to feel
RIGHT toward his neighbours, his family, and his God. No preacher ever
talked half so well. Yea verily, she was as interesting as the Bishop
himself, and far pleasanter to look at. When she ran short of breath,
and out of words, she reached both hands toward him again.

"OH DO PLEASE THINK OF THESE THINGS!" she begged. "Do try to believe
that I am a sensible person, and know what I am talking about."

"Madame," said Mr. Pryor, "there's no doubt in my mind but you are the
most wonderful woman I ever have met. Surely I believe you! Surely I
know your plan of life is the true, the only right way. It is one
degree added to my humiliation that the ban I am under keeps me from
friendly intercourse with so great a lady."

"'Lady'?" said my mother, her eyes widening. "'Lady'? Now it is you
who are amused."

"I don't understand!" he said. "Certainly you are a lady, a very great
lady."

"Goodness, gracious me!" cried my mother, laughing until her dimples
would have held water. "That's the first time in all my life I was
ever accused of such a thing."

"Again, I do not comprehend," said Mr. Pryor, as if vexed about all he
would endure.

Mother laughed on, and as she did so she drew back her hands and
studied them. Then she looked at him again, one pink dimple flashing
here and there, all over her face.

"Well, to begin at the root of the matter," she said, "that is an
enormous big word that you are using lightly. Any one in petticoats is
not a lady--by no means! A lady must be born of unsullied blood for at
least three generations, on each side of her house. Think for a minute
about where you are going to fulfil that condition. Then she must be
gentle by nature, and rearing. She must know all there is to learn
from books, have wide experience to cover all emergencies, she must be
steeped in social graces, and diplomatic by nature. She must rise
unruffled to any emergency, never wound, never offend, always help and
heal, she must be perfect in deportment, virtue, wifehood and
motherhood. She must be graceful, pleasing and beautiful. She must
have much leisure to perfect herself in learning, graces and arts----"

"Madame, you draw an impossible picture!" cried Mr. Pryor.

"I draw the