This Freedom

Rosalie was astonished to think she was leaving; and now the time had come she was sorry to be going. Not very sorry; very excited; but having just enough regret to realise, on looking

etched of us; but that's pleasure; that's not happiness. One comes to know the only true and ideal happiness is happiness tinctured with faintest, vaguest hint of tear

ive to this the harness of the school was drawn off her as at the paddock gate the headstall from a colt. She was out of

perience that so enraptures young mariners and of which young mariners are at the same time so confidently contemptuous, so superiorly sceptical. Nearer to press the simile, youth at the feet of experience is as one, experienced, climbing a mountain with the young thing panting behind. "Go on! Go on!" pants the grow

Call me Keggo. I like it. It's much more

her back propped against Miss Keggs's knees. One of Miss Keggs's hands was on Rosalie

her and spoke impulsive

her strongly, pressing her lips upon the lips of Rosalie with

l be friends

r head. "Ships that

Keg

" she mimicked. She sighed. "Oh, my dear, it's

the night and speak

and a distant voic

en look as though hand and face belonged to one that stood most chilled and storm-beat upon the bridge, peering through the storm. Her fingers made no motion responsive to Rosalie's warm touch. She said strangely, as though it was to herself she

d! How readily into her eyes her young and warm and ardent sympathies pressed the tears, their flowers! How warm her words? How warmly spoken! "O Keggo! Keggo, dear

e and straining Rosalie to her as though here was so

't again say I ever shall forget, or hail

ly crying. "Na

h things about yourself? You didn't mean it? It's

se not. Darling girl, only this-you're young-young and so of course you are going by full sail as

er that; and the things th

t spoilt lessons and spoilt walks; those sinister attributes of theirs, arising somehow out of their freedom to do as they liked in the world, that somehow left the world very hard for women. Grotesque ideas, but masterful ideas, masterfully shaping the child mind wherein they germinated; burrowing in clutchy roots; pressing up in strong young saplings. Agreed the child is father of the man, but much more the girl is mother of the woman. It is the man's

ere worshipful and giants and genii. That was the established perception and those its earliest images. The perception remained, deepening, changing only in hue, as a viscid liquid solidifies and darkens in a vessel over the fire. It remained, persisted. Time but steadied the focus as the wise oculist, seeking for his patient the perfect image, drops lenses in the frame through which the vision chart is viewed. In a

towards them-towards them as contrasted with women, I mean. First awe, then envy, then, since I've been growing up here, just as having a desirable position in life, as having the desirable position in life, independence, a career, work, freedom, a goal-yes, and a goal that's always and always a little bit in front of you, always something better. That's the thing. That's the thing, Keggo. Just look at the other side. Take a case in point. T

aid thoughtfully, "You know, I believe I'm rather like a man in many ways, in points of view. It's through always thinking them better, I daresay. The ideas I've had about them!" and she laughed again. She said slowly, "Though mind you, Keggo, they ar

r fingers, she added indifferently, as one idly letting drop a remark requiring no comment, negligently with

brought that other perception of men which, running parallel with the p