“My dear,” said Mr. Damerel, benignly, “Rose has nothing to do with practical life. You women are always excessive, even in your virtues. I do not mean to throw any doubt upon your qualities as the most excellent of wives; but you have not the discrimination to perceive that duties that suit you admirably would be quite out of place in her. It is a matter of natural fitness. The practical is adapted to forty, but not to nineteen. Let the child alone, my love, to enjoy her youth.” “I think you argue like a Jesuit, Herbert,” said Mrs. Damerel; “but whether you are right or wrong on this point does not affect what I ask--which is, that you would speak to her. She is much more likely to attend to you than to me.” “Who--I?” said Mr. Damerel, with a fretful line in his fine forehead. “It is totally out of the question, Martha. _I_ speak to Rose about her lovers! It would be quite indelicate, in the first place; and in the second, it would be most disagreeable to me.” “But still we have a duty to our child, even if it is disagreeable,” said his wife, not willing to give up her object without a struggle. “My dear Martha, spare me! I knew you would say something about duty. You are very didactic, my love, by nature; but this, you must remember, is rather a reversal of positions between you and me. Let Rose see,” he continued, once more relaxing in tone, “that her path is quite clear before her. Incledon is a very good fellow; he will be of use to me in many ways. Nothing could be more desirable. There is a new box of books which I must look over, Martha; do not let me detain you. You will manage the matter admirably, I am sure, in your own sensible way.”