The San Francisco call., 1904-11-25

turbably into the night for SeVeral
seconds before replying. Always he
had the air of one 10th to break
silence, one who had a constitutional
aversion to the utilities of speech. But
she was accustomed to that, even
whimsically attached to his deliberate
ways. At last he spoke. In the dark
ness she could see his face only as
pale blur, but there was suspicious
sweetness in his tone.
"All the little ripping, purling
brooks" he said slowly, land all the
ordinary rivers, even the great majestic
streams, wind somewhere to the sea.
And I'm sure it isn't my fault, he
added, in an injured voice.
Some rivers plunge underground
and lose themselves" she argued stub
bornly.
"I said ordinary rivers This with
laconic patience from the gloom.
A quick, flashing smile touched her
lips and vanished, as if frightened to
find itself in the dark. She wondered
well, number Of things; as, for in
stance, what he was thinking Of at that
very instant, whether he had ever been
really in love, and if so what she was
nke-how deeply love would stir him,
whether
She made little impatient movement
to brush away the thoughts which
buzzed through her mind like gnats,
but still they hovered about, scattered
but not dispersed. He was one Of the
men a woman simply had to think
about-broad Of shoulder and exasper-
atingly masculine-a sort Of unex-
plored country OF mannishness that
forever challenged. She drew sharp,
pioued sigh. However much the fe1nf-
nine mind paid tribute, he apparently
preserved a Jove-like calm. Ruthlessly
she prodded him again.
But why hasn't a girl just as good
a right to contemplate the joys Of bach
elorhood as a man?" she demanded. "A
man marries If he wants to, when he
wants and above all, because he wants
to; while a girl-well. she gets the idea
that matrimony is a refuge from the
wrath to come. If she doesn't marrya
she knows that her best friends will re-
fer to her behind her back as an old
maid and think of her as one of life's
failures. 1t isn't fair! Why hasn't she
just as much of a right to her single
ness as a manY'
The dark mass in the opposite chair
seemed to be considering the question.
There was a movement, and the point
of light that marked his cigar shifted.
"She has" he said with calm convic-
ton, "only one expects her to have too
much taste to exercise the right" There
was a pause, and then he elaborated:
Being a woman, you see, dear girl, is
just a trifie like being caught in a net.
1t is by no means the same thing as be-
ing a man, and all the emancipation in
the world can't really free her. She is
an entirely different being, and I'm
rather glad she is.'
The girl was holding her breath, she
scarcely knew why. Sprites, hand in
hand, seemed to be dancing along her
voices, that only she could hear, And
I'm glad, too; and I'm glad, tool" 1t
took her several moments to study the
sudden Joy. Then she pursued the ar
gument calmly.
But no-surely you're not in earnest
surely you're not of the antiQuated
school that believes, for instance, that
a woman's brain is Of a different-and,
of course, inferior-caliber to man's2 2'
There was a fine disdain in her tone,
Notwithstanding the fact that her heart
was beating impatiently.
The man chuckled softly, for truth to
tell he was that very sort Of a creature.
Never had he been able to take the or
gan under discussion seriously. He ad-
mitted it now without reserve, with a
fine, large, indulgent masculine assur-
ance.
TITS a wonderful little contrivance,
the feminine BRAIN" he concluded, but
certainly it is different"
Again in the darkness the mouselike
smile flashed out and back again, ac-
companied this time by an audible
sound that started as a snicker, but
was deftly turned into sniff Of scorn.
1t was the latter that the man recog-
nized and greeted with an amused
laugh.
Ever hear about the little butercup
that pined to be a daisy-or the rose
that swore 1T was a potato, and If it
wasn't it would be-there noW?" in
quired the man with bland curiosity
Again the point of light shifted. He had
replaced the cigar in his mouth and
settled a little more Iuxuriously in his
chair, as If In mere sybaritic enjoyment
of his extraordinary luck In having
been born as he was.
Your Illustrations are beside the
facts" she retorted at last, with dig
nifty. II was not asserting that girls
wish to be menl"
"Well, then"-his tone implied an
amiable desire to please-"ever hear Of
the little buttercup that insisted that
1t was a daisy, in spite Of appearances
and the testimony or Its yellow petals
Well. that's like the foolish little girls
who want to be Judged by mans
standard
Two slender hands were clapped noise
lessly, but their owner enunciated with
some heat: How would you like to be
a woman yourself and be put upon,
and-and snubbed and forever taunted
with the fact Of your inferiority? Oh,
not In so many words" she went on
hurriedly, lest he should interrupt her
speech. MOT that of course; but by be-
ing told that you couldn't understand,
being patroni3ed, having allowances
made-'Oh, well, she's only womanl'
Just tell me, honor bright, how would
you like it?"
The man chuckled. The vision of him
self IN the predicament suggested was
not without its humorous side. The fig
ure of speech he had used a few min
utes earlier came back to him with
new force. 1t was like being caught
under a net, though the meshes were
silken.
"Well7" she demanded, with ring of
triumph In her voice.
IT don't suppose I should like it," he