"That were a coffin, sure enough. Wonderful small that were. I'll be goin' over presently. But if some folks won't believe I don't feel no manner of doubt but what that's true," and so saying she departed. Isabella laughed. "You must forgive Mrs. Palling," she said. "She is an excellent, hard-working woman, and most kind-hearted, although perhaps she hasn't given you that impression. Now let us have our tea comfortably." CHAPTER IX A SQUARE IN THE PATCHWORK "Reading into the Unknown Hopes that we have long outgrown. Weaving into the Unseen Tidings of the Might-have-Been."--S. R. LYSAGHT. "What do you do for companionship?" asked Philippa presently. "Don't you find it a little lonely here sometimes?" "Yes, I am lonely sometimes. There is no use in denying it," answered Isabella. "But I am not more lonely here than I should be anywhere else. Some people are born to be alone, it seems to me; it must just be accepted as a fact and made the best of. But I lead a very busy life in my own way, and I have plenty of books, as you see." "Oh," cried Philippa, as she turned to a small bookcase which stood close at hand, "I see you have some of Ian Verity's books. Do you like them? My father was particularly fond of them, and we read most of them together. His writing appeals to me tremendously. I have fought more than one battle on his behalf with people who say he is too hard on women, and that some of his characters are overdrawn. Do you know him?" "Yes, I think I may say that I know him pretty well," replied the other quietly. "I should very much like to meet him," continued Philippa. "I should so like to ask him why he wrote _The Millstone_, for, although I won't let any one say a word against him, I do think in my heart that he made a mistake--that his point of view was a little distorted, I mean. It was so tragically sad." "There is usually a strong element of tragedy in everyday life for those who have eyes to see it, and it is just the story of a plain woman. And there is not the slightest doubt that a woman without a share, at any rate, of good looks, is as a rule handicapped. She hasn't the same start in life as the others. To a woman, beauty is the very greatest asset." "Oh, surely not the greatest," objected Philippa. "Looks are of no importance compared with attributes of the mind--intellect, sympathy." "Oh yes, they are. Those things come later in life, but they will very seldom help a woman to what she wants when she is young. A woman wants exactly those things which a man wants to find in her; and what a man wants is a pretty face, and the happy assurance of manner which it gives its possessor. What man ever gave a second glance at a plain girl, however intelligent, if there was a pretty one in the room? Later on in life, I grant you, a plain woman may gain a place by what you call attributes of the mind, but it won't be the same; her youth will be over, and youth is the time."