"Of course I don't want to press you against your will, Angela," said Mary slowly. "You know that? But--I can't get away from feeling that being a good wife--and mother--in this awfully upset, transitional age, when men's ideals are changing step for step with women's--and perhaps a little in advance of them, who knows?--I believe it's the most complicated and difficult vocation in the world. Compared with it, any ordinary man's profession--like engineering, for instance--looks to me like simplicity itself. And, Angela, I can't believe that every woman is born with all this understanding, all this difficult expert knowledge in her head, any more than I believe that every man is born knowing by intuition how to be a good engineer. Of course we'd think it quite strange--shouldn't we?--if Donald, as a boy wanting to be an engineer, had thought he mustn't read any books that mentioned engineering, and must stop his ears if--" Angela, feeling almost ready to stop her ears herself, interrupted with some warmth:-- "Cousin Mary, we simply don't understand each other! I don't think of--of romance--and marriage--as anything in the least like _engineering_--not in the least! I don't think of them as subjects for lectures by _experts_! And I was brought up to feel there were some things not very--suitable to talk about. I was brought up not to think about them at all." "Of course, my dear!--I understand. But every woman thinks about marriage--doesn't she? She can't help it. Take me," said Mary, good-humoredly--"a confirmed old maid school-teacher who's just scandalized half the city, and been publicly dismissed from her job. I haven't the slightest idea of marrying, ever, and yet I think about it often, and would like to feel--" "You do? Well, I am different. I _don't_ think about it." "You don't think about marriage?" "I never think of it at all," said Angela. That settled Cousin Mary. After a brief pause she said, in the nicest way: "Well, then, forgive me, Angela, and forget everything I've said." Angela forgave her readily enough. Shut your eyes to the horrid, unwomanly streak in her, and Mary Wing was really a very pleasant person. She had always said that, to her mother and others. So talk flowed easily into other channels, and the air of cousinly amity was soon restored. But just when that was accomplished, Mary rose unexpectedly to go, and Angela found herself left with several topics not yet mentioned at all. "Oh, don't go yet!" said she. "I want to--" "I _must_! I really had no time at all to-day, but came anyway, whether or no. How pretty you look, Angela," said Mary, and kissed the now unblushing cheek again. "I wish the lunch-party hadn't kept you so long! I haven't--"