Miss Mathers was full of pleasant surprises. I found that she enjoyed music-halls, approved of divorce (which she called a capital arrangement if two people could not agree), and disliked the idea of Women’s Suffrage. I pointed out that she was inconsistent in approving of divorce notwithstanding her religious principles, and she explained her reasons over some hot buttered toast before retiring to bed. “My brother divorced his wife,” she said, “for reasons which are warranted by Scripture, and I hold him to be in the right. It was far better than if he had compelled her to live with him under false pretences of affection.” “But if she ran away,” I suggested. “In that case,” said Miss Mathers, “she would have continued to bear his name, and would therefore have been living in open sin. My brother, by taking the course he did, gave her the opportunity to retrieve her character by becoming respectably married. The Church is perfectly right in refusing to sanction divorce, because persons who place themselves in such a position ought to be outside the pale of religion, but I think the law acts wisely in providing for legitimate separation.” On another buttered toast night I asked her why she disliked Women’s Suffrage. If I had had any knowledge of character I might have guessed her reason, but Miss Mathers was not like anyone I had met before. “My dear Mrs. Molyneux,” she said, “the poet Byron has most truly observed that ‘_Man’s love is of his life a thing apart; ’Tis woman’s whole existence._’ It is true that it does not fall to the lot of all of us to love in that sense, but the possibility can never be lost sight of. What could you conceive more ludicrous and unsuitable than that the whole existence of one of our rulers should be merged in passionate feelings for a fellow-creature? Public life demands whole-hearted devotion to the State.” “But great statesmen often fall dreadfully in love,” I said. “A thing apart, Mrs. Molyneux, believe me,” the romantic creature said with assurance. “When my brother’s nose is in his books or his inkpot or wherever else it may happen to be, it is _there_; temporarily perhaps, but he gives his whole mind to it. When he emerges he may be the slave of any woman, only not at the time. But I assure you I have seen women attempt to transact the business of an office, when they were in love, with deplorable results. I do not say they are incapable of renouncing their private passions for the sake of what they apprehend to be their duty, but I maintain that their services to that duty will not be worth a pin so long as the renouncement is in progress. And the public service cannot wait while they recover.” “A great many people will disagree with you, Miss Mathers,” I said. “A great many people have not loved,” she replied. “I speak from observation only.”