han hoped for. I would teach them that for
the majority of women marriage means disgrace.'

'Ah! Now do let me understand you. Why does it mean disgrace?'

'Because the majority of men are without sense of honour. To be bound
to them in wedlock is shame and misery.'

Everard's eyelids drooped, and he did not speak for a moment.

'And you seriously think, Miss Nunn, that by persuading as many woman
as possible to abstain from marriage you will improve the character of
men?'

'I have no hope of sudden results, Mr. Barfoot. I should like to save
as many as possible of the women now living from a life of dishonour;
but the spirit of our work looks to the future. When _all_ women, high
and low alike, are trained to self-respect, then men will regard them
in a different light, and marriage may be honourable to both.'

Again Everard was silent, and seemingly impressed.

'We'll go on with this discussion another time,' said Miss Barfoot,
with cheerful interruption. 'Everard, do you know Somerset at all?'

'Never was in that part of England.'

'Miss Nunn is going to take her holiday at Cheddar and we have been
looking over some photographs of that district taken by her brother.'

From the table she reached a scrapbook, and Everard turned it over with
interest. The views were evidently made by an amateur, but in general
had no serious faults. Cheddar cliffs were represented in several
aspects.

'I had no idea the scenery was so fine. Cheddar cheese has quite
overshadowed the hills in my imagination. This might be a bit of
Cumberland, or of the Highlands.'

'It was my playground when I was a child,' said Rhoda.

'You were born at Cheddar?'

'No; at Axbridge, a little place not far off. But I had an uncle at
Cheddar, a farmer, and very often stayed with him. My brother is
farming there now.'

'Axbridge? Here is a view of the market-place. What a delightful old
town!'

'One of the sleepiest spots in England, I should say. The railway goes
through it now, but hasn't made the slightest difference. Nobody pulls
down or builds; nobody opens a new shop; nobody thinks of extending his
trade. A delicious place!'

'But surely you find no pleasure in that kind of thing, Miss Nunn?'

'Oh yes--at holiday time. I shall doze there for a fortnight, and
forget all about the "so-called nineteenth century."'

'I can hardly believe it. There will be a disgraceful marriage at this
beautiful old church, and the sight of it will