“Women are so much more practical than we are,” said Lord Newmarch. “I see it constantly. Now that I think of it, there is some truth in what you say. The young fellows are singularly without motive. I don’t see the beauty of it as you do. They do what other people do; but the women always have an object--they are trying to marry their daughters or to marry themselves, or to rise in the social scale, or something which is definite. They are practical, but not in a large way. That is what prevents them from being so useful in the way of public work as they ought to be. They won’t or they can’t take a broad view. They fasten upon some matter of fact, and stick to that. It is all very well, you know, for a girl with Helena Thornleigh’s notions to talk as she does, in that grand, vague way. But observe how women will pick up a subject--probably a nasty subject--and harp upon it. I could give you a hundred instances. They are not nasty women, that is the odd thing. I suppose it is from some feeling of duty not to shrink from what is most repugnant to them--so instead of shrinking they make a pounce upon it, and hold by it in the most aggravating way. I don’t know a woman who takes a really large view except your sister, Arden. She is the sort of girl that would help a man, that would be of real use----” “She is much obliged to you, I am sure,” said Edgar, interrupting him; “but we were not talking of my sister--nor, indeed, of women at all. Let us settle with the others first. You don’t seem to understand that I want information. I want to know why these sons of piratical land-acquiring Saxons, and conquering Normans, and robber Danes, and marauding Celts--every one of them getting and taking as much as ever they could--should have got into this habit of spending their lives for nothing, neither gain nor honour, nor pleasure nor advantage to others, nor profit to themselves--that is what I can’t make out.”