“Oh, no!” answered Mrs. Spring Fragrance brightly. “I have no troubles to tell; but all the while I am thinking about the book I am writing.” “A book!” “Yes, a book about Americans, an immortal book.” “My dear Mrs. Spring Fragrance!” exclaimed her visitor in amazement. “The American woman writes books about the Chinese. Why not a Chinese woman write books about the Americans?” “I see what you mean. Why, yes, of course. What an original idea!” “Yes, I think that is what it is. My book I shall take from the words of others.” “What do you mean, my dear?” “I listen to what is said, I apprehend, I write it down. Let me illustrate by the ‘Inferior Woman’ subject. The Inferior Woman is most interesting to me because you have told me that your son is in much love with her. My husband advised me to learn about the Inferior Woman from the Superior Woman. I go to see the Superior Woman. I sit on the veranda of the Superior Woman’s house. I listen to her converse with her mother about the Inferior Woman. With the speed of flames I write down all I hear. When I enter the house the Superior Woman advises me that what I write is correct. May I read to you?” “I shall be pleased to hear what you have written; but I do not think you were wise in your choice of subject,” returned Mrs. Carman somewhat primly. “I am sorry I am not wise. Perhaps I had better not read?” said Mrs. Spring Fragrance with humility. “Yes, yes, do, please.” There was eagerness in Mrs. Carman’s voice. What could Ethel Evebrook have to say about that girl! When Mrs. Spring Fragrance had finished reading, she looked up into the face of her American friend—a face in which there was nothing now but tenderness. “Mrs. Mary Carman,” said she, “you are so good as to admire my husband because he is what the Americans call ‘a man who has made himself.’ Why then do you not admire the Inferior Woman who is a woman who has made herself?” “I think I do,” said Mrs. Carman slowly. VI