"Oh, well, he teaches that the ideal man ought to rise superior to conventional prejudices, and have the courage to do as he thinks right without deferring to ordinary ideas. To be strong in willing what he wants--all that sort of thing, you know." "Dear me!" said Mrs. Wibberley-Stimpson dubiously. "But, if everybody acted like that, would it be quite--er--nice?" "There's no fear of any of the men in Gablehurst being Supermen, at all events!" said Edna. "They're all perfect slaves to convention! But the lecturer explained the Nietzschean theories in such a way that he made us feel there was a great deal to be said for them.... No tea, thanks. I had mine at the Fletchers. It looks," she added, with a glance at the tea-cups, "as if you had been entertaining some one, Mother--who was it?" "Only Lady Harriet," replied Mrs. Stimpson, with elaborate carelessness. "_What_ Lady Harriet?" was the intentionally provoking query. "Really, Edna, one would think there were dozens of them! _The_ Lady Harriet: Lady Harriet Elmslie, of course." "Oh," said Edna. "And what did _she_ want?" "Well, she _came_ to ask after Saunders' character, but she stayed to tea, and we really struck up quite an intimate friendship, discussing one thing and another. She's so quiet and unassuming, Edna--absolutely no _hauteur_. I'm sure you will like her. I told her about you all, and she seemed _so_ interested. Quite between ourselves, I shouldn't be at all surprised if she got us invited to take part in the Pageant--she's on the Committee, you know." "If I _was_ invited, Mother, I'm not at all sure I shouldn't refuse." "You must please yourself about that, my dear," said Mrs. Stimpson, who, perhaps, felt but little anxiety as to the result. "_I_ shall certainly accept if the part is at all suitable." She might have said more, if Ruby had not suddenly burst into the room. Ruby was certainly the flower of the family--an extremely engaging young person of about ten, whose mischievous golden-brown eyes had long and curling lashes, and whose vivacious face was set off by a thick mane of deepest Titian red. "Oh, Mummy," she announced breathlessly, "I've got invitations for nearly all my animals while we're away at Eastbourne! Mucius Scaevola's the most popular--everybody asked him, but I think he'll feel _most_ at home with Daisy Williams. Vivian and Ada Porter will simply love to have Numa Pompilius, but nobody seems to want Tarquinius Superbus, so I shall turn him out in the garden, and he must catch worms for himself." "Dearest child," said her mother, "what are these new animals of yours with the extraordinary names?"