"_Rupert!_ don't be so incorrigibly low and horrid. As if any girl with a rag of decency or self-respect would answer one of those advertisements. Why, men who advertise for wives can only be seedy adventurers, the sort of person one reads of in books and never meets in real life." "Seedy sort of adventurers," Rupert repeated slowly, turning, as if by chance, to survey his own reflection in the mirror over the mantelpiece; "there are adventurers and adventurers. Perhaps some of those who advertise do it--for a joke." "Just like a man if they do," his cousin answered vehemently; "and then some poor girl takes the wretched creature seriously, and thinks he means his stupid joke. I should despise a girl who answered such an advertisement, but I should much more despise the man who inserted it." "Don't scorn them too much. Everybody has different ideals, and it takes all sorts to make a world. Your sort don't advertise for husbands and wives, but our section of society is not so faultless that we can afford to throw stones even at people who marry through a matrimonial bureau." "It's so low. The sort of thing a shop girl might do." "Not lower than displaying your daughters in the best market, as the Society mother does," Rupert answered sternly; "not lower than running a man to earth, as shoals of women do, and do it without an ounce of shame." "But, answering an advertisement like that is almost asking a man to marry you." "Perhaps, and when poor old Donkin lost his wife a year ago, a lot of women wrote and proposed to him. Yes, _actually wrote and offered to marry him_! He told me so himself, and those were women of your class, well born and well educated. Well, we have the consolation of knowing that he refused the lot." "Horrid beasts! no wonder you men lose your respect for women, if you think we are all capable of doing that sort of thing." "We don't think so," Rupert's contemptuous tones grew gentle again; "we know the difference between the womanly woman and the others. Thank God, there are plenty of the right sort left," and Rupert stooped suddenly and took his cousin's two small hands into his. "You aren't going?" she exclaimed. "I wanted you to see Baba, and there are thousands of things I meant to say to you." "So sorry, but the thousands of things must be postponed. I have an appointment at five, and I must keep it." "You will advertise for the 'young person'?" "Yes; I won't forget the 'young person'--and--by the way, Cicely," a slight trace of embarrassment showed on his face, "didn't you tell me you wanted to find a sort of nursery governess for Baba?" "Certainly, I do; but, my dear boy, what do you know about nursery governesses?" "I don't know anything about them," was the reply, but Cicely's quick eyes still noted embarrassment in both voice and manner, "but I heard the other day of a girl who--who might be wanting a post."