Courtland, scarred with fifteen years' experience of the institution thus roundly attacked, was immensely diverted, though his own feelings gave a rather bitter twist to his mirth. Grantley argued, or rather pleaded, with a deceptive gravity: "But if you fall in love with a girl?" "Heaven forbid!" "Well, but the world must be peopled, Jeremy." "Marriage isn't necessary to that, is it?" "Oho!" whistled Courtland. "We may concede the point--in theory," said Grantley; "in practice it's more difficult." "Because people won't think clearly and bravely!" cried Jeremy, with a thump on the bench. "Because they're hidebound, and, as I say, the priests heaven-and-hell them till they don't know where they are." "Heaven-and-hell them! Good phrase, Jeremy! You speak feelingly. Your father, perhaps----? Oh, excuse me, I'm one of the family now." "My father? Not a bit. Old Mumples now, if you like. However that's got nothing to do with it. I'm going on the lines of pure reason. And what is pure reason?" The elder men looked at one another, smiled, and shook their heads. "We don't know; it's no use pretending we do. You tell us, Jeremy," said Grantley. "It's just nature--nature--nature! Get back to that, and you're on solid ground. Why, apart from anything else, how can you expect marriage, as we have it, to succeed when women are what they are? And haven't they always been the same? Of course they have. Read history, read fiction (though it isn't worth reading), read science; and look at the world round about you." He waved his arm extensively, taking in much more than the valley in which most of his short life had been spent. "If I'd thought as you do at your age," said Courtland, "I should have kept out of a lot of trouble." "And I should have kept out of a lot of scrapes," added Grantley. "Of course you would!" snapped Jeremy. That point needed no elaboration. "But surely there are exceptions among women, Jeremy?" Grantley pursued appealingly. "Consider my position!" "What is man?" demanded Jeremy. "Well, let me recommend you to read Haeckel!" "Never mind man. Tell us more about woman," urged Grantley. "Oh, lord, I suppose you're thinking of Sibylla?" "I own it," murmured Grantley. "You know her so well, you see." Descending from the heights of scientific generalisation and from the search after that definition of man for which he had been in the end obliged to refer his listeners to another authority, Jeremy lost at the same time his gravity and vehemence. He surprised Courtland by showing himself owner of a humorous and attractive smile. "You'd rather define man, perhaps, than Sibylla?" suggested Grantley. "Sibylla's all right, if you know how to manage her." "Just what old Lady Trederwyn used to say to me about Harriet," Courtland whispered to Grantley.