be so prodigal as that," she said, "it would
deprive us of all the pleasure of thinking about it; and as everything
is more delightful in anticipation than in reality----"

"Oh, mamma!" said Chatty, shocked by this pessimistic view.

"And what am I to do with myself all the evening?" said Dick, with mock
dismay, "after anticipating this pleasure all day? If anticipation is
the best part of it, you will allow that disappointment after is
doubly----"

"If you have nothing better to do, stay and dine with us," Mrs. Warrender
said. This proposal made Chatty look up with pleasure, and then look
down again lest she should show, more than was expedient, how glad she
was. And Dick, who had reflected and decided that to call once and to go
to the theatre once could do no harm, accepted with enthusiasm, without
even pausing to ask himself whether to dine with them once might be
added without further harm to his roll of permissions. The dinner was a
very commonplace, lodging-house dinner, and Chatty got out her muslin
work afterwards, and had a quiet industrious evening, very much like
her evenings at home. She was like a picture of domestic happiness
impersonified, as she sat in the light of the lamp with her head bent,
the movement of her arm making a soft rustle as she worked. She wore a
muslin gown after the fashion of the time, which was not in itself a
beautiful fashion, but pretty enough for the moment, and her hair, which
was light brown, fell in little curls over her soft cheek. She looked
up now and then, while the others talked, turning from one to another,
sometimes saying a word, most frequently giving only a smile or look of
assent. Let us talk as we will of highly educated women and of mental
equality and a great many other fine things: but as a matter of fact,
this gentle auditor and sympathiser, intelligent enough to understand
without taking much part, is a more largely accepted symbol of what the
woman ought to be, than anything more prominent and individual. Just so
Eve sat and listened when Adam discoursed with the angel, putting by
in her mind various questions to ask when that celestial but rather
long-winded visitor was gone. Perhaps this picture is not quite harmonious
with the few facts in our possession in respect to our first mother,
and does scant justice to that original-minded woman: but the type has
seized hold upon the imagination of mankind. Dick thought of it vaguely,
as he looked (having secur