quarrel, he had started dizzily down the
descent of his bachelorhood, while she had folded her trembling wings
and retired into the shadow. That Miss Matoaca possessed "headstrong
opinions," even the doctor, with all his gallantry, would have been the
last to deny. "She seems to think men are made just like women," he
remarked now, wonderingly, "but, oh, Lord, they ain't!"

"I tell you it's those outlandish heathen notions of hers that are
driving us all crazy!" exclaimed the General, making a face as he had
done over his glass of water. "Talks about taxes without representation
exactly as if she were a man and had rights! What rights does a woman
want, anyway, I'd like to know, except the right to a husband? They all
ought to have husbands--God knows I'm not denying them that!--the state
ought to see to it. But rights! Pshaw! They'll get so presently they
won't know how to bear their wrongs with dignity. And I tell you,
doctor, if there's a more edifying sight than a woman bearing her wrongs
beautifully, I've never seen it. Why, I remember my Cousin Jenny
Tyler--you know she married that scamp who used to drink and throw his
boots at her. 'What do you do, Jenny?' I asked, in a boiling rage, when
she told me, and I never saw a woman look more like an angel than she
did when she answered, 'I pick them up.' Why, she made me cry, sir;
that's the sort of woman that makes a man want to marry."

"I dare say you're right," sighed the doctor, "but Miss Matoaca is made,
of a different stuff. I can't imagine her picking up any man's boots,
George."

"No more can I," retorted the General, "it serves her right that she
never got a husband. No gentleman wants to throw his boots at his wife,
but, by Jove, he likes to feel that if he were ever to do such a thing,
she'd be the kind that would pick them up. He doesn't want to think
everlastingly that he's got to walk a chalk-line or catch a flea in his
ear. Now, what do you suppose Miss Matoaca said to me on Sunday? We were
talking of Tom Frost's running for governor, and she said she hoped he
wouldn't be elected because he led an impure life. An impure life! Will
you tell me what business it is of an unmarried lady's whether a man
leads an impure life or not? It isn't ladylike--I'll be damned if it is!
I could see that Miss Mitty blushed for her. What's the world coming to,
I ask, when a maiden lady isn't ashamed to know that a man leads an
impure life?"

He raged softly, and I cou