The Daughters of Danaus | Page 9

shiver. Algitha drew herself together. She turned to her eldest brother.
"Look here, Ernest; you said just now that girls were shielded from the realities of life. Yet Mrs. Gordon was handed over by her protectors, when she was little more than a school-girl, without knowledge, without any sort of resource or power of facing destiny, to--well, to the hateful realities of the life that she has led now for over twenty years. There is nothing to win general sympathy in this case, for Mr. Gordon is good and kind; but oh, think of the existence that a 'protected,' carefully brought-up girl may be launched into, before she knows what she is pledged to, or what her ideas of life may be! If that is what you call protection, for heaven's sake let us remain defenceless."
Fred and Ernest accused their elder sister of having been converted by Hadria. Algitha, honest and courageous in big things and in small, at once acknowledged the source of her ideas. Not so long ago, Algitha had differed from the daughters of the neighbouring houses, rather in force of character than in sentiment.
She had followed the usual aims with unusual success, giving unalloyed satisfaction to her proud mother. Algitha had taken it as a matter of course that she would some day marry, and have a house of her own to reign in. A home, not a husband, was the important matter, and Algitha had trusted to her attractions to make a good marriage; that is, to obtain extensive regions for her activities. She craved a roomy stage for her drama, and obviously there was only one method of obtaining it, and even that method was but dubious. But Hadria had undermined this matter of fact, take-things-as-you-find-them view, and set her sister's pride on the track. That master-passion once aroused in the new direction, Algitha was ready to defend her dignity as a woman, and as a human being, to the death. Hadria felt as a magician might feel, who has conjured up spirits henceforth beyond his control; for obviously, her sister's whole life would be altered by this change of sentiment, and, alas, her mother's hopes must be disappointed. The laird of Clarenoc--a fine property, of which Algitha might have been mistress--had received polite discouragement, much to his surprise and that of the neighbourhood. Even Ernest, who was by no means worldly, questioned the wisdom of his sister's decision; for the laird of Clarenoc was a good fellow, and after all, let them talk as they liked, what was to become of a girl unless she married? This morning's conversation therefore touched closely on burning topics.
"Mrs. Gordon's people meant it for the best, I suppose," Ernest observed, "when they married her to a good man with a fine property."
"That is just the ghastly part of it!" cried Hadria; "from ferocious enemies a girl might defend herself, but what is she to do against the united efforts of devoted friends?"
"I don't suppose Mrs. Gordon is aware that she is so ill-used!"
"Another gruesome circumstance!" cried Hadria, with a half laugh; "for that only proves that her life has dulled her self-respect, and destroyed her pride."
"But, my dear, every woman is in the same predicament, if predicament it be!"
"What a consolation!" Hadria exclaimed, "all the foxes have lost their tails!"
"It may be illogical, but people generally are immensely comforted by that circumstance."
The conversation waxed warmer and more personal. Fred took a conservative view of the question. He thought that there were instincts implanted by Nature, which inspired Mrs. Gordon with a yearning for exactly the sort of existence that fate had assigned to her. Algitha, who had been the recipient of that lady's tragic confidences, broke into a shout of laughter.
"Well, Harold Wilkins says----"
This name was also greeted with a yell of derision.
"I don't see why you girls always scoff so at Harold Wilkins," said Fred, slightly aggrieved, "he is generally thought a lot of by girls. All Mrs. Gordon's sisters adore him."
"He needs no further worshippers," said Hadria.
Fred was asked to repeat the words of Harold Wilkins, but to soften them down if too severe.
"He laughs at your pet ideas," said Fred ruthlessly.
"Break it gently, Fred, gently."
"He thinks that a true woman esteems it her highest privilege to--well, to be like Mrs. Gordon."
"Wise and learned youth!" cried Hadria, resting her chin on her hand, and peering up into the blue sky, above the temple.
"Fool!" exclaimed Algitha.
"He says," continued Fred, determined not to spare those who were so overbearing in their scorn, "he says that girls who have ideas like yours will never get any fellow to marry them."
Laughter loud and long greeted this announcement.
"Laughter," observed Fred, when he could make himself heard, "is among the simplest forms of argument. Does this merry outburst imply that you don't