"It's changed even the social side. In _my_ young days the people with means were the landed gentry and the nobility. But now all the fine old places are being sold up to the rich manufacturers"--she sighed with real chagrin. "Everywhere, instead of good work and durability, it's cheap clothes trimmed with imitation lace. And women with idle hands, discontented and neurotic. "If every woman did the work she leaves to her lady's maid and saw to good old-fashioned food and unadulterated bread, we shouldn't hear of these cases of 'nervous breakdown' everywhere. It's the unnatural life we lead, turning night into day, eating unwholesome kickshaws and poisoning ourselves with doctored wines!" "But don't you think..." Jill got her chance at last as Aunt Elizabeth paused for breath--"that the present education is broadening women's minds? Think of the frightful superstition--the narrow moral point of view--the bigoted creeds of the centuries past. When girls talked of nothing but sentiment and fainted and screamed..." "Hm...." Miss Uniacke interrupted. "I don't see very much improvement. They shriek now on public platforms--instead of in their own parlours. It's a less decent form of hysteria, to _my_ mind!" Jill laughed aloud. "All the same--I think they've more self-respect nowadays. They don't go running after men..." "_Don't_ they?" snapped her Aunt. "Just read a few cases of breach of promise and divorce! That will show you how far the modern woman respects herself! "Nine times out of ten it's idleness breeds sin. If they tubbed their own babies they'd have less leisure for such mischief. But babies are out of fashion now..." the intrepid old maid stole a glance at Jill's calm face and proceeded--"Mind you, I don't say I consider it's right to bring a lot of children into the world if you haven't the means to support them. But you'll notice if you look around it's the people who could well afford it who generally shirk that duty! A baby's a handicap, you see, in a life of pleasure.--It means self-denial--and besides this, the young generation shrink from any form of pain!... "When you marry, Jill, my dear," her thoughts swerved to McTaggart--"make up your mind to be wife and mother--instead of a well-dressed, idle doll! You'll be far happier--mark my words--it's what the Almighty planned for women." "I shan't marry." Jill's dark head was bent in shadow over her work. "All young girls _say_ that." Aunt Elizabeth smiled to herself. "And some of us stick to it," she added with a touch of grim honesty. "There you are!" cried Jill. But the moment the words had passed her lips she regretted them. For the thin old face was a trifle wistful. She went on quickly.