h its lens, the most natural human relations appeared
unnatural. Thus, not the primmest patterns of family life could hope
for mercy in their eyes; over the family, too, man, as read by these
young rigorists, was held to leave his serpent's trail of desire.

For out of it all rose the vague, crude picture of woman as the prey of
man. Man was animal, a composite of lust and cruelty, with no aim but
that of brutally taking his pleasure: something monstrous, yet to be
adored; annihilating, yet to be sought after; something to flee and, at
the same time, to entice, with every art at one's disposal.

As long as it was solely a question of clandestine knowledge and
ingenious surmisings, Laura went merrily with the rest: here no barrier
shut her off from her companions. Always a very inquisitive little
girl, she was now agog to learn new lore. Her mind, in this direction,
was like a clean but highly sensitised plate. And partly because of her
previous entire ignorance, partly because of her extreme receptiveness,
she soon outstripped her comrades, and before long, was one of the most
skilful improvisers of the group: a dexterous theorist: a wicked little
adept at innuendo.

But that was all; a step farther, and she ran her head against a stone
wall. For the invisible yeast that brought this ferment of natural
curiosity to pass, was the girls' intense interest in the opposite sex:
a penned-up interest that clamoured for an outlet; an interest which,
in the life of these prospective mothers, had already usurped the main
place. Laura, on the other hand, had so far had scant experience of
boys of a desirable age, nor any liking for such as she had known;
indeed she still held to her childish opinion that they were
"silly"--feckless creatures, in spite of their greater strength and
size--or downright disagreeable and antagonistic, like Godmother's
Erwin and Marmaduke. No breath of their possible dangerous fascination
had hitherto reached her. Hence, an experience that came her way, at
the beginning of the autumn was of the nature of an awakening.

XIV.

"My cousin Bob's awfully gone on you."

Laura gaped at Tilly, in crimson disbelief. "But I've never spoken to
him!"

"Doesn't count. He's seen you in church."

"Go on!--you're stuffing."

"Word of honour!--And I've promised him to ask aunt if I can bring you
with me to lunch next Saturday."

Laura looked forward to this day with mixed feelings. She was flattered