d some won't-be husband, I fear, whom she does like.'

'That's quite of course, if the other is true. Miss Ruby isn't the
girl to have come to her time of life without a preference. The
natural liking of a young woman for a man in a station above her,
because he is softer and cleaner and has better parts of speech,--just
as we keep a pretty dog if we keep a dog at all,--is one of the evils of
the inequality of mankind. The girl is content with the love without
having the love justified, because the object is more desirable. She
can only have her love justified with an object less desirable. If all
men wore coats of the same fabric, and had to share the soil of the
work of the world equally between them, that evil would come to an
end. A woman here and there might go wrong from fantasy and diseased
passions, but the ever-existing temptation to go wrong would be at an
end.'

'If men were equal to-morrow and all wore the same coats, they would
wear different coats the next day.'

'Slightly different. But there would be no more purple and fine linen,
and no more blue woad. It isn't to be done in a day of course, nor yet
in a century,--nor in a decade of centuries; but every human being who
looks into it honestly will see that his efforts should be made in
that direction. I remember; you never take sugar; give me that.'

Neither had he come here to discuss the deeply interesting questions
of women's difficulties and immediate or progressive equality. But
having got on to these rocks,--having, as the reader may perceive, been
taken on to them wilfully by the skill of the woman,--he did not know
how to get his bark out again into clear waters. But having his own
subject before him, with all its dangers, the wild-cat's claws, and
the possible fate of the gentleman in Oregon, he could not talk freely
on the subjects which she introduced, as had been his wont in former
years. 'Thanks,' he said, changing his cup. 'How well you remember!'

'Do you think I shall ever forget your preferences and dislikings? Do
you recollect telling me about that blue scarf of mine, that I should
never wear blue?'

She stretched herself out towards him, waiting for an answer, so that
he was obliged to speak. 'Of course I do. Black is your colour;--black
and grey; or white,--and perhaps yellow when you choose to be gorgeous;
crimson possibly. But not blue or green.'

'I never thought much of it before, but I have taken your word for
gospel. It