By way of putting an extremely fine point on her sarcasm, Miss Deemas turned to Willie, with a very condescending air, and said: "Pray, when did your sister marry Mr Frederick Auberly?" Willie, with a face of meekness, that can only be likened to that of a young turtle-dove, replied: "Please, ma'am, it isn't my sister as has married Mr Auberly; but it's my brother, Frank Willders, as hopes to marry Miss Loo Auberly, on account o' havin' saved her life, w'en she comes of age, ma'am." Miss Deemas stood aghast, or rather sat aghast, on receiving this reply, and scanned Willie's face with one of her most eagle glances; but that small piece of impudence wore an expression of weak good-nature, and winked its eyes with the humility of a subdued pup, while Miss Tippet looked half-horrified and half-amused; Matty grinned, and Emma squeaked through her nose. "Boy," said Miss Deemas severely, "your looks belie you." "Yes, ma'am," answered Willie, "my mother always said I wasn't half so bad as I looked; and she's aware that I'm absent from home." At this point Willie allowed a gleam of intelligence to shoot across his face, and he winked to Emma, who thereupon went into private convulsions in her handkerchief. "Emelina," said Miss Deemas solemnly, "let me warn you against that boy. He is a bad specimen of a bad sex. He is a precocious type of that base, domineering, proud and perfidious creature that calls itself `lord of creation,' and which, in virtue of its superior physical power, takes up every position in life worth having," ("except that of wife and mother," meekly suggested Miss Tippet), "_worth having_" (repeated the eagle sternly, as if the position of wife and mother were _not_ worth having), "worth having, and leaves nothing for poor weak-bodied, though not weak-minded woman to do, except sew and teach brats. Bah! I hate men, and they hate _me_, I know it, and I would not have it otherwise. I wish they had never been made. I wish there had been none in the world but women. What a blessed world it would have been _then_!" Miss Deemas hit the table with her hand, in a masculine manner, so forcibly, that the plates and glasses rattled, then she resumed, for she was now on a favourite theme, and was delivering a lecture to a select audience. "But, mark you, _I'm_ not going to be put down by men. I mean to fight 'em with their own weapons. I mean to--" She paused suddenly at this point, and, descending from her platform, advised Miss Tippet to dismiss the boy at once. Poor Miss Tippet prepared to do so. She was completely under the power of Miss Deemas, whom, strange to say, she loved dearly. She really believed that they agreed with each other on most points, although it was quite evident that they were utterly opposed to each other in everything. Wherein the bond lay no philosopher could discover. Possibly it lay in the fact that they were absolute extremes, and, in verification of the proverb, had met.