the better; it gives them less
time to fuss over their feelings.'

'Well, it's better to fuss before than after, isn't it?' Franklin
inquired.

'Fussing after doesn't do much harm,' said Miss Buchanan, 'and there's
not so much time for fussing then. It's fussing before that leaves so
many of the nicest girls old maids. My niece Helen is the nicest girl I
know, and I sometimes think she'll never marry now. It vexes me very
much,' said Miss Buchanan.

'She's a very nice girl,' said Franklin. 'And she's a very noble woman.
But she doesn't know it; she doesn't know her own capacities. I'm very
much attached to your niece, Miss Buchanan.'

Miss Buchanan shot him another glance and then laughed. 'Well, we can
shake hands over that,' she remarked. 'So am I. And you are quite right;
she is a fine creature and she's never had a chance.'

'Ah, that's just my point,' said Franklin gravely. 'She ought to have a
chance; it ought to be made for her, if she can't make it for herself.
And she's too big a person for that commonplace solution of yours, Miss
Buchanan. You're of the old ideas, I see; you don't think of women as
separate individuals, with their own worth and identity. You think of
them as borrowing worth and identity from some man. Now that may be good
enough for the nice girl who's only a nice girl, but it's not good
enough for your niece, not good enough for a noble woman. I'd ask a
happy marriage for her, of course, but I'd ask a great deal more. She
ought to put herself to some work, develop herself, find herself all
round.'

Miss Buchanan, while Franklin delivered himself of these convictions,
leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed on her bosom, and observed
him with amused intentness. When he had done, she thus continued to
observe him for some moments of silence. 'No, I'm of the old ideas,' she
said at last. 'I don't want work for Helen, or development, or anything
of that sort. I want happiness and the normal life. I don't care about
women doing things, in that sense, unless they've nothing better to do.
If Helen were married to a man of position and ability she would have
quite enough to occupy her. Women like Helen are made to hold and
decorate great positions; it's the ugly, the insignificant women, who
can do the work of the world.'

Franklin heard her with a cheerful, unmoved countenance, and after a
moment of reflection observed, 'Well, that seems to me mighty hard on
the women who aren't ugly and