“There has been no alteration. It is simply this: You asked me to accompany you to London this morning with the definite object of trying to do you a service. In those circumstances, unless I am much mistaken in you, a girl might safely trust herself in your care from here to Japan.” The girl’s spirit and modesty took the old _roué_ by storm. It was such a deft and graceful appeal to all that was best in the traditions of his not very worthy school, that this particular girl was indeed, after making it, an almost sacred object in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat in the carriage, regarding her with admiration more respectfully than before. “What a strangely different world this would be,” he said at last, “if only half the women in it possessed your divine attribute of common sense!” “Perhaps there are some divine attributes lacking in the men, too,” suggested Deborah demurely. “That is more than likely. But who, that knows anything about him, would expect divinity in such a creature as a man?” “Not I, for one,” answered Deborah, with simple sincerity which was rather startling. “And it’s rather hard, isn’t it, that such commonplace, tainted wretches as we are, should expect such moral perfection in our helpmates.” Deborah paused a few moments, and then answered thoughtfully: “I don’t think so. Surely it is better that one-half the world should be good than that none should be. And if a man can’t be good himself, it is at least something that he can admire goodness in his wife and wish for a good influence around his children.” The earl was much interested. “There,” said he, with excitement, “is the sensible way of looking at it. What a wife you’d make?” “Yes,” said Deborah, quietly, “to a good husband.” “But I understood you to say----” “That a man should choose a good mother for his children. But I think also that a woman should choose a good father for hers.” “And you would be very hard to please?” “Very.” “But don’t you know that most women prefer a man not too utterly immaculate?” suggested the earl, gently. “That is because they hope to reform him.” “And--stop me at once if you think I am getting impertinent--but have you never, never entertained any idea of the sort?” Deborah blushed, but she turned to answer him very frankly. “Yes, I have. I wanted very badly to reform Rees Pennant. And that set me thinking what sort of a thing such a reform could be. And then I began to doubt my own powers.” “And you decided to give him up?” “No, oh no. But I saw that it would need a great deal of love on the man’s side as well as on the woman’s to bring such a reform about.” “And had you not in the meantime met some one who--well, who insisted on occupying a corner in your thoughts?” Deborah started. “Oh, no; at least----.” She hesitated in some confusion. The earl laughed softly. “Ah, you are a very woman after all. I was beginning to be afraid you were rather too superior to our poor common clay.”