lture is higher than ours (I mean taking
the term in its broadest sense). On the other hand, the _special_
condition--moral, social, personal--of our sex seems to me to be
superior in this country; I mean regarded in relation--in proportion as
it were--to the social phase at large. I must add that we did see some
noble specimens over there. In England we met some lovely women, highly
cultivated, and of immense organising power. In France we saw some
wonderful, contagious types; we passed a delightful evening with the
celebrated Marie Verneuil; she was released from prison, you know, only
a few weeks before. Our total impression was that it is only a question
of time--the future is ours. But everywhere we heard one cry--'How long,
O Lord, how long?'"

Basil Ransom listened to this considerable statement with a feeling
which, as the current of Miss Tarrant's facile utterance flowed on, took
the form of an hilarity charmed into stillness by the fear of losing
something. There was indeed a sweet comicality in seeing this pretty
girl sit there and, in answer to a casual, civil inquiry, drop into
oratory as a natural thing. Had she forgotten where she was, and did she
take him for a full house? She had the same turns and cadences, almost
the same gestures, as if she had been on the platform; and the great
queerness of it was that, with such a manner, she should escape being
odious. She was not odious, she was delightful; she was not dogmatic,
she was genial. No wonder she was a success, if she speechified as a
bird sings! Ransom could see, too, from her easy lapse, how the
lecture-tone was the thing in the world with which, by education, by
association, she was most familiar. He didn't know what to make of her;
she was an astounding young phenomenon. The other time came back to him
afresh, and how she had stood up at Miss Birdseye's; it occurred to him
that an element, here, had been wanting. Several moments after she had
ceased speaking he became conscious that the expression of his face
presented a perceptible analogy to a broad grin. He changed his posture,
saying the first thing that came into his head. "I presume you do
without your father now."

"Without my father?"

"To set you going, as he did that time I heard you."

"Oh, I see; you thought I had begun a lecture!" And she laughed, in
perfect good humour. "They tell me I speak as I talk, so I suppose I
talk as I speak. But you mustn't put me on what I saw and hear