The judge fingered the stem of his wine glass and gazed thoughtfully at the table-cloth. Major Wardlaw turned his gaze on him as if suddenly recalled from the regions of mental speculation. Linton, also self-absorbed as yet, began to listen and to wonder. "You have strong views about women. You don't exactly love the sex," said the Judge. "How can a man love 'em when he sees the mischief they've done by their ambitions and pertinacity?" demanded the General. "My dear fellow, you are too sweeping. They're not all alike. There are plenty of good women left in the world." "Show me where they are, then! I don't say they all set out to break the Ten Commandments. But it's their love of power, their restless ambitions, their confounded unreasonableness, that have played the deuce with us. They want to rule the world, sir, and they weren't meant for it, and it's not good for them, and they know it!" They all laughed at the General's vehemence, and extending a wrinkled forefinger, he went on, with unabated powers of declamation: "Men ought to have nipped it in the bud, that's what they ought to have done. Instead of which we gave place to their insidious aggressions. We gave 'em an inch and they took an ell. We gave 'em the whip hand, and they weren't content with it in little things. By heaven, they're chastising us with scorpions. And there'll be the devil to pay before we can put 'em back in their proper place. But, mark you, it'll have to be done, if we want to call our souls our own, it'll have to be done. Why! my blood boils when I think of the misery shrewish, self-willed women have inflicted on some of the best fellows in the world. I know cases. I've seen it done among my old friends. I knew a man, he was a retired Colonel with a splendid record. What do you think? His scold of a wife used to send him out to buy cream for the apple-tart. It's not always the wife. Sometimes it's the mother-in-law. Sometimes it's a sister. Now and then it's a daughter. I know an old school-fellow, a parson; the poor beggar has three plain sisters quartered on him; great, gaunt women who talk about 'dear Robert,' and badger dear Robert out of his life. His only happy moment is when they're all gone to bed. He'd like to marry; but he's too soft-hearted to send 'em about their business. I tell you the man's afraid. I know another fellow, too ... but there--what's the good of talking!" Major Wardlaw was raising from his seat. "Excuse me for two minutes, General!" "Yes, yes, to be sure," assented his host, and when the Major had closed the door behind him, he dropped his voice and leaned across the table.