do not know why I should have felt so much surprised. I had made unto
myself my own image of Mrs. Lascelles, and neither her appearance, nor a
single word that had fallen from her, was in the least in keeping with
my conception. Prepared for a certain type of woman, I was quite
confounded by its unconventional embodiment, and inclined to believe
that this was not the type at all. I ought to have known life better.
The most scheming mind may well entertain an enthusiasm for arms,
genuine enough in itself, at a martial crisis, and a natural manner is
by no means incompatible with the cardinal vices. That manner and that
enthusiasm were absolutely all that I as yet knew in favour of this Mrs.
Lascelles; but they were enough to cause me irritation. I wished to be
honest with somebody; let me at least be honestly inimical to her. I
took out my cigarette-case, and when about to help myself, handed it,
with a vile pretence at impulse, to Mrs. Lascelles instead.

Mrs. Lascelles thanked me, in a higher key, but declined.

"Don't you smoke?" I asked blandly.

"Sometimes."

"Ah! then I wasn't mistaken. I thought I saw two cigarettes just now."

Indeed, I had first smelt and afterward discovered the second cigarette
smouldering on the ground. Bob was smoking his still. The chances were
that they had both been lighted at the same time; therefore the other
had been thrown away unfinished at my approach. And that was one more
variation from the type of my confident preconceptions.

Young Robin had meanwhile had a quick eye on us both, and the stump of
his own cigarette was glowing between a firmer pair of lips than I had
looked for in that boyish face.

"It's so funny," said he (but there was no fun in his voice), "the
prejudice some people have against ladies smoking. Why shouldn't they?
Where's the harm?"

Now there is no new plea to be advanced on either side of this eternal
question, nor is it one upon which I ever felt strongly, but just then I
felt tempted to speak as though I did. I will not now dissect my motive,
but it was vaguely connected with my mission, and not unrighteous from
that standpoint. I said it was not a question of harm at all, but of
what one admired in a woman, and what one did not: a man loved to look
upon a woman as something above and beyond him, and there could be no
doubt that the gap seemed a little less when both were smoking like twin
funnels. That, I thought, was the adverse point of view; I