“That is a matter of opinion,” replied Mr. Wanless. “When elegant ladies have _Damen-lectüre_ especially written for them, and when peasant women are harnessed to a cart by the side of the cow, while the husband walks behind smoking his cigar--I think a little improvement is necessary somewhere.” He spoke in a clear, authoritative voice, commanding attention. “Have you been in Germany?” asked Frau Schultz. “I have been all over the world--travelled continuously for twenty years. Somehow the position of women has interested me. It is an index to the sociology of a country.” “Which is the most interesting one you know from that point of view?” asked old Mr. Chetwynd, who had been following the conversation. “Burmah,” replied Mr. Wanless. “It is the anomaly of the East. Germany could learn many lessons from her.” “Is the position of women very high there?” asked Miss Bunter, timidly, the mention of Burmah having stimulated her interest to the pitch of speaking. “Oh yes!” returned Mr. Wanless, laughing. “A wife is the grey mare there with a vengeance.” A faint flush came into Miss Bunter's cheek. “But it does not matter to the English people who live there, does it?” Mr. Wanless assured her, amid the general smile, that English people carried their own laws and customs with them. Miss Bunter relapsed into a confused yet pleased silence. The talk continued, became detached and desultory again. Miss Bunter no longer listened, but nerved herself up to a great effort. At last, when a lull came, she moistened her lips with some wine, and leant across the table, catching the traveller's eye. “Have you lived long in Burmah?” “Yes. I have just come from an eighteen-months' stay there.” “I wonder if you ever met a Mr. Dotterel there?” “I know a man of that name,” said Mr. Wanless, smiling. “But Burmah is an enormous place, you know. My friend is an F. J. Dotterel--Government appointment--stationed at Bhamo!” “That's him,” cried Miss Bunter, in suppressed and ungrammatical excitement. “How extraordinary you should know him! He is a great friend of mine.” “A very good fellow,” said Mr. Wanless. “His wife and himself were very kind to me.” “I beg your pardon,” said Miss Bunter. “His wife? It can't be the same--my friend is not married.” “Oh yes he is,” laughed the traveller pleasantly. “There is only one F. J. Dotterel in the Government service at Bhamo. Married out there. Got three or four jolly little children.” She looked at him for a moment haggardly, and grew white to the lips. The loss of blood made her face look pinched and death-like. She tried to utter some words, but only a few inarticulate sounds came from her throat. There was a moment's intense silence, every one around her knowing what had happened. Then she swayed sideways, and Felicia caught her in her arms. She had fainted. The table rose in confusion. Amid a hubbub of voices was heard Mme. Popea's explaining to Mr. Wanless the nature of his indiscretion.