Lord Chester looked about him: the hall was hung with pictures, and these were of a kind new to him, for they represented scenes in which man was not only the executive hand, but also the directing head, usurping to himself the functions of the Higher Intelligence. Thus Man was sitting on the Judicial Bench; Man was preaching in the Church; Man was holding debate in Parliament; Man was writing books; Man was studying. Where, then, was Woman? She was represented as spinning, sewing, nursing the baby, engaged in domestic pursuits, being wooed by young lovers, young herself, sitting among the children. 'You like our pictures?' asked the Professor. 'They were painted during the Subjection of Woman two hundred years ago. Men in those days worked for women; women gave men their love and sympathy: without love, which is a stimulus, labour is painful to man; without sympathy, which supports, labour is intolerable to him; with, or without, labour--necessary work with head or hand for the daily bread--is almost always intolerable to woman. Therefore, since the Great Revolution, there has been no good work done by man, and no work at all by women.' She opened a door, holding the handle for a moment, as if with reverence for what was within. 'Here is our library,' she whispered. 'Come, let me present you to my husband. I warn you, beforehand, that our manners are like our furniture--old-fashioned.' It was a large room, filled with books of ancient aspect: at a table sat, among his papers, a venerable old man, the like of whom Lord Chester had never seen before. It must be owned that the existing régime did not produce successful results in old men. They were too often frivolous or petulant; they were sometimes querulous; they complained of the want of respect with which they were treated, and yet generally neither said nor did anything worthy of respect. But this was a dignified old man: thin white locks hung round his square forehead, beneath which were eyes still clear and full of kindliness; and his mobile lips parted with a peculiarly sweet smile when he greeted his guest. For the first time in his life, Lord Chester looked, with wonder, upon a man who bore in his face and his carriage the air of Authority. The room was his study: the walls were hidden with books; the table was covered with papers. Strange, indeed, to see an old man in such a place, engaged in such pursuits! 'Be welcome,' he said, 'to my poor house. Your lordship has, I learn, been the pupil of my wife.' 'An apt and ready pupil,' she interposed, with meaning. 'I rejoice to hear it. You will now, if you please, be my pupil--for a short time only. You have much to learn, and but a brief space to learn it in before we proceed upon the Mission of which you know. Will you leave Lord Chester with me, my dear?' The Professor left them alone. 'Sit down, my lord. I would first ask you a few questions.'