rights."

"A wonderful pair, I hear!" said Frank. "Mrs. Clio Tallboys, she
calls herself, and a poor little husband, whom she carries about to
show the superiority of her sex."

"A Cambridge professor and a great political economist!" observed
Cecil, in a low but indignant voice.

"The Yankee Cambridge!" quoth Frank.

"The American Cambridge is a distinguished university," returned
Cecil.

"Cecil is right, Master Frank," laughed his mother; "Cam and Isis
are not the only streams of learning in the world."

"I never heard of him," said Jenny; "he is a mere satellite to the
great luminary."

"They are worth seeing," added Frank; "she is one of those regular
American beauties one would pay to get a sight of."

"Where did you get all this information?" asked Cecil.

"From Duncombe himself. They met on the Righi; and nothing is more
comical than to near him describe the ladies' fraternization over
female doctors and lawyers, till they rushed into each other's arms,
and the Clio promised to come down on a crusade and convert you
all."

"There are two ways of telling a story," said Cecil.

"No wonder the gentlemen quake!" said Mrs. Poynsett.

"I don't," said Frank, boyishly.

"Because you've no wife to take you in hand," retorted Jenny.

"For my part," said Mrs. Poynsett, "I can't see what women want. I
have always had as many rights as I could exercise."

"Ah! but we are not all ladies of the manor," said Jenny, "nor do we
all drive coaches."

"I observe," said Cecil, with dignity, "that there is supposed to be
a license to laugh at Mrs. Duncombe and whatever she does."

"She would do better to mind her children," said Frank.

"Children! Has she children?" broke in Anne and Rosamond, both at
once.

"Didn't you know it?" said Jenny.

"No, indeed! I didn't think her the sort of woman," said Rosamond.
"What does she do with them?"

"Drops them in the gutter," said Frank. "Literally, as I came home,
I heard a squeak, and found a child flat in a little watercourse. I
picked it out, and the elder one told me it was Ducky Duncombe, or
some such word. Its little boots had holes in them, mother; its
legs were purple, and there was a fine smart foreign woman flirting
round the corner with young Hornblower."

"Boys with long red hair, and Highland dresses?" exclaimed Rosamond.
"Yes, the same we saw with Miss Vivian!"

"Exactly!" said Frank, eagerly. "She is quite a mother to those
poor little wre