‘About the German women and their position?’ she began. He laughed a little. ‘I had no idea you were so much in earnest,’ said he. ‘It was a joke.’ ‘A joke!’ She turned to him in amaze. ‘In this way. What I said was quite true--that _is_ the the position of the German women; but--but--I thought you would see it--isn’t it the position of all civilised women? Are not Englishwomen in the same case? I am sure I think so. I don’t see how any woman who marries can expect anything else.’ The colour rushed in an angry flood over her cheek, and brow, and throat, as she realised that he had been politely making merriment of the subject, and that the very point of the joke lay in her having taken it all as solemn, thoughtful earnest. ‘You were making fun of me and of the cause: that was very polite of you!’ she said, her eyes flashing upon him in anger. ‘I am very sorry,’ he said, with a provoking smile. ‘I was only describing the position of women in general in a picturesque manner. It depends upon the feelings of the speaker as to the colouring he gives to his descriptions.’ ‘I see,’ said Helena, ‘you are just like any other selfish, unthinking man--not in earnest. But I am! I think that cause is worthy the devotion of a woman’s life; and it is what I intend to devote my life to.’ ‘Don’t!’ said Sebastian, involuntarily. But Helena had been roused to real anger. ‘Compliments and pretty phrases are all we ever get from men on that subject,’ she said. ‘All my life I have been sure it was women alone who must work their own emancipation; and after what you have said to-night, I am doubly sure of it. Oh! it is horrible to think that a woman is not even allowed to have a serious thought upon her own condition; or if she says she has to a man, he laughs at her! There is one consolation--the laugh dishonours him, not her.’ ‘But, my dear Miss Spenceley, do let me explain. Do you think you really have had any experience in such things? Many most accomplished women think quite differently; the nicest girl I ever knew--I mean the cleverest and best-informed young lady I ever knew--thought very differently.’ ‘Perhaps that was one reason why you thought her so nice. I am sure she had not been brought up in the school of adversity and experience.’ ‘Pardon me! She had been brought up in that school alone, and in no other. I fancy she had attended more of its classes than you.’ ‘I don’t see how you can know what school I have attended,’ said Helena, the same sudden, cold, sharp look coming into her eyes and over her face. ‘And I do not think much of any woman who is indifferent upon that subject.’ ‘I did not say she was indifferent,’ said Sebastian; and Helena, looking at him, saw that he was, in imagination, in some very different place from his mother’s drawing-room: perhaps thinking of ‘the nicest girl I ever knew.’