him, Mrs. Austen told, for a wonder, the truth, though as
will sometimes happen even to the best of us, not all the truth. It were
extravagant to have expected it of her. But she told all that she
thought good for him; more exactly good for Margaret; more precisely for
herself.

It was then that the pleasant room with its clutter of costly futilities
disappeared and this agreeable woman ceased to be. The avalanche of the
modulated announcement sent Lennox reeling not merely out of the room,
but out of the world, deeply into hell.

It was then, too, that with a sigh, modulated also, Mrs. Austen had
added: "Believe me, I am sorry."

Lennox looked at her. "You say that Margaret wants our engagement
broken. Why?"

"She has changed her mind."

"So I infer. But why?"

"Because she is a woman."

"But not the ordinary woman. It is the ordinary woman who changes her
mind--when she has one to change. Margaret is not of that kind. Margaret
is not the kind to promise herself to a man and then throw him over. You
will forgive me if I speak heatedly, but I do not believe it."

With frosty indulgence Mrs. Austen reassured him. "You do not believe
that I will forgive you? But, really, there is nothing to forgive.
Though, whether Margaret is ordinary or superior, has nothing to do with
it. Dear me, no. Women are not what they were. One often hears that and
often, too, one hears people wondering why. That always amuses me. The
reason is so simple, isn't it? Women are not what they were because they
used to be girls. Before that they were children. At one time they were
babes. Naturally they change. They can't help it. It must be a general
law. Or at least one may suppose so. One may suppose, too, that, in
changing, they develop and in developing acquire the extraordinary
ability to think things over. That is just what Margaret had done. It is
no reflection on you, Mr. Lennox, and I should be very sorry if you
thought so. I am sure Margaret has the highest esteem for you. I know
that I have."

Mrs. Austen, smiling frostily as she lied, thought: Now why doesn't he
take it and go? I hope he won't be tedious.

Lennox too had his thoughts. She is trying to swamp me in words, he told
himself. That angered him and he showed it.

"What are these things? When I last saw Margaret she said nothing about
any things. There was no change in her then. I would stake my life that
she had no idea of breaking our engagement. There must be a