“Better! You do not mean to say, Mr. Ingram, that you are an utilitarian. I do, in truth, hope better things of you than that. Yes! steam mills are better, no doubt, and mechanics’ institutes and penny newspapers. But is nothing to be valued but what is useful?” And Miss Dawkins, in the height of her enthusiasm, switched her donkey severely over the shoulder. “I might, perhaps, have said also that we create more beautiful things,” said Mr. Ingram. “But we cannot create older things.” “No, certainly; we cannot do that.” “Nor can we imbue what we do create with the grand associations which environ those piles with so intense an interest. Think of the mighty dead, Mr. Ingram, and of their great homes when living. Think of the hands which it took to raise those huge blocks--” “And of the lives which it cost.” “Doubtless. The tyranny and invincible power of the royal architects add to the grandeur of the idea. One would not wish to have back the kings of Egypt.” “Well, no; they would be neither useful nor beautiful.” “Perhaps not; and I do not wish to be picturesque at the expense of my fellow-creatures.” “I doubt, even, whether they would be picturesque.” “You know what I mean, Mr. Ingram. But the associations of such names, and the presence of the stupendous works with which they are connected, fill the soul with awe. Such, at least, is the effect with mine.” “I fear that my tendencies, Miss Dawkins, are more realistic than your own.” “You belong to a young country, Mr. Ingram, and are naturally prone to think of material life. The necessity of living looms large before you.” “Very large, indeed, Miss Dawkins.” “Whereas with us, with some of us at least, the material aspect has given place to one in which poetry and enthusiasm prevail. To such among us the associations of past times are very dear. Cheops, to me, is more than Napoleon Bonaparte.” “That is more than most of your countrymen can say, at any rate, just at present.” “I am a woman,” continued Miss Dawkins. Mr. Ingram took off his hat in acknowledgment both of the announcement and of the fact. “And to us it is not given--not given as yet--to share in the great deeds of the present. The envy of your sex has driven us from the paths which lead to honour. But the deeds of the past are as much ours as yours.” “Oh, quite as much.” “‘Tis to your country that we look for enfranchisement from this thraldom. Yes, Mr. Ingram, the women of America have that strength of mind which has been wanting to those of Europe. In the United States woman will at last learn to exercise her proper mission.” Mr. Ingram expressed a sincere wish that such might be the case; and then wondering at the ingenuity with which Miss Dawkins had travelled round from Cheops and his Pyramid to the rights of women in America, he contrived to fall back, under the pretence of asking after the ailments of Mrs. Damer.