ing back to her. "If you oppose
our movement, you won't want to hear of the suffering of women!"

"The suffering of women is the suffering of all humanity," Ransom
returned. "Do you think any movement is going to stop that--or all the
lectures from now to doomsday? We are born to suffer--and to bear it,
like decent people."

"Oh, I adore heroism!" Verena interposed.

"And as for women," Ransom went on, "they have one source of happiness
that is closed to us--the consciousness that their presence here below
lifts half the load of _our_ suffering."

Verena thought this very graceful, but she was not sure it was not
rather sophistical; she would have liked to have Olive's judgement upon
it. As that was not possible for the present, she abandoned the question
(since learning that Mr. Ransom had passed over Olive, to come to her,
she had become rather fidgety), and inquired of the young man,
irrelevantly, whether he knew any one else in Cambridge.

"Not a creature; as I tell you, I have never been here before. Your
image alone attracted me; this charming interview will be henceforth my
only association with the place."

"It's a pity you couldn't have a few more," said Verena musingly.

"A few more interviews? I should be unspeakably delighted!"

"A few more associations. Did you see the colleges as you came?"

"I had a glimpse of a large enclosure, with some big buildings. Perhaps
I can look at them better as I go back to Boston."

"Oh yes, you ought to see them--they have improved so much of late. The
inner life, of course, is the greatest interest, but there is some fine
architecture, if you are not familiar with Europe." She paused a moment,
looking at him with an eye that seemed to brighten, and continued
quickly, like a person who had collected herself for a little jump, "If
you would like to walk round a little, I shall be very glad to show
you."

"To walk round--with you to show me?" Ransom repeated. "My dear Miss
Tarrant, it would be the greatest privilege--the greatest happiness--of
my life. What a delightful idea--what an ideal guide!"

Verena got up; she would go and put on her hat; he must wait a little.
Her offer had a frankness and friendliness which gave him a new
sensation, and he could not know that as soon as she had made it (though
she had hesitated too, with a moment of intense reflexion), she seemed
to herself strangely reckless. An impulse pushed her; she obeyed it with
her eyes open. She