"Some are very learned. And they are beginning to govern, like the men; but not so much as you do here." The girl's forehead wrinkled. "My brother he once told me," she said slowly, "that in your world many women are bad. Is that so?" "Some are, of course. And some men think that most are. But I don't; I think women are splendid." "If that is so, then better I can understand what I have heard," the girl answered thoughtfully. "If Oroid women were as I have heard my brother talk of some of yours, this world of ours would soon be full of evil." "You are different," the Very Young Man said quickly. "You--and Lylda." "The women here, they have kept the evil out of life," the girl went on. "It is their duty--their responsibility to their race. Your good women--they have not always governed as we have. Why is that?" "I do not know," the Very Young Man admitted. "Except because the men would not let them." "Why not, if they are just as learned as the men?" The girl was smiling--a little roguish, twisted smile. "There are very clever girls," the Very Young Man went on hastily; he found himself a little on the defensive, and he did not know just why. "They are able to do things in the world. But--many men do not like them." Aura was smiling openly now, and her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Perhaps it is the men are jealous. Could that not be so?" The Very Young Man did not answer, and the girl went on more seriously. "The women of my race, they are very just. Perhaps you know that, Jack. Often has my brother told us of his own great world and of its problems. And the many things he has told us--Lylda and I--we have often wondered. For every question has its other side, and we cannot judge--from him alone." The Very Young Man, surprised at the turn their conversation had taken, and confused a little by this calm logic from a girl--particularly from so young and pretty a girl--was at a loss how to go on. "You cannot understand, Aura," he finally said seriously. "Women may be all kinds; some are bad--some are good. Down here I know it is not that way. Sometimes when a girl is smart she thinks she is smarter than any living man. You would not like that sort of girl would you?" "My brother never said it just that way," she answered with equal seriousness. "No, that would be bad--very bad. In our land women are only different from men. They know they are not better or worse--only different." The Very Young Man was thinking of a girl he once knew. "I hate clever girls," he blurted out. Aura's eyes were teasing him again. "I am so sorry," she said sadly. The Very Young Man looked his surprise. "Why are you sorry?" "My sister, she once told me I was clever. My brother said it, too, and I believed them." The Very Young Man flushed. "You're different," he repeated. "How--different?" She was looking at him sidewise again. "I don't know; I've been trying to think--but you are. And I don't hate you--I like you--very, very much."