retched her length along the bed. "They've taught us well, the men;
it's a blood disease now, running everywhere in the female line. You may
be sure it was a barbarian princess that hesitated between the lady and
the tiger. A civilised one would have introduced the lady and given her
a dot, and retired to the nearest convent. Bah! It's a deformity, like
the dachshund's legs."

Alicia looked as if this would be a little troublesome, and not quite
worth while, to follow.

"The happiness of his whole life is involved," she said simply.

"Oh dear yes--the old story! And what about the happiness of yours? Do
you imagine it's laudable, admirable, this attitude? Do you see yourself
in it with pleasure? Have you got a sacred satisfaction of self-praise?"

Contempt accumulated in Miss Howe's voice, and sat in her eyes. To mark
her climax she kicked her slippers over the end of the bed.

"It is idiotic--it's disgusting," she said.

Alicia caught a flash from her. "My attitude!" she cried. "What in the
world do you mean? Do you always think in poses? I take no attitude. I
care for him, and in that proportion I intend that he shall have what
he wants--so far as I can help him to it. You have never cared for
anybody--what do you know about it?"

Hilda took a calm, unprejudiced view of the ceiling. "I assure you I'm
not an angel," she cried. "Haven't I cared! Several times."

"Not really--not lastingly."

"I don't know about really; certainly not lastingly. I've never thought
the men should have a monopoly of nomadic susceptibilities. They entail
the prettiest experiences."

"Of course, in your profession--"

"Don't be nasty, sweet lady. My affections have never taken the
opportunities of our profession. They haven't even carried me into
matrimony, though I remember once, at Sydney, they brought me to the
brink! We must contrive an escape for Duff Lindsay."

"You assume too much--a great deal too much. She must be beautiful--and
good."

"Give me a figure. She's a lily, and she draws the kind of beauty that
lilies have from her personal chastity and her religious enthusiasm.
Touch those things and bruise them, as--as marriage would touch and
bruise them--and she would be a mere fragment of stale vegetation. You
want him to clasp that to his bosom for the rest of his life?"

"I won't believe you. You're coarse and you're cruel."

Tears flashed into Miss Livingstone's eyes with this. Hilda, still
regarding the ceiling,