“Go on, dear.” “Father is a good man, but prejudiced. He does not understand you. And, my dear boy, one must beware of prejudiced affections; they are stable only so long as we please the bestower. I know father wants to make a county gentleman of you, an M.P., and the like. He does not want you to work. And there I disagree with him. He will cramp your intellect and soul if you are not careful.” Gabriel looked in her eyes and smiled. “You fond traitor!” he said. “No, I am not that,” she answered. “I only want to save you both pain in the future. It is not likely that you will be content to be a boy forever. Some strong circumstance must inevitably set you at variance with father’s prejudices. Then will come struggle and rebellion, anger and reproaches, and sad days. You are a strong man, only you do not respect your strength. I do not think that you realize your responsibilities towards yourself. Filial obedience is good, but honest and manly independence is better.” They were silent a moment as in mutual thought. A slight breeze stirred the roses; the noise of reaping waxed in the meadows. “Where did you gather all this wisdom, little woman?” “From my instincts, dear. Instincts are a woman’s reason. I have been thinking much, debating much in my mind. And I am not at ease as to your future. Pardon me.” Gabriel reached for Judith’s hand. His bronzed fingers clasped her white ones. They looked into each other’s eyes. “What would you have me do?” he asked. “Not surrender to father’s whims in everything. Emancipate yourself by degrees; teach him to respect your individuality; prepare him to recognize your freedom.” “Yes.” “Choose your own sphere; you are six-and-twenty. Ask him for an allowance; travel a year or two; work and develop your own powers.” Gabriel pressed her hand. “Any more?” “And oh, Gabriel, don’t let him marry you off-hand from worldly and ambitious motives. Be a man; think and choose for yourself. Don’t give up your soul to a girl because for one month she seems lovely and desirable.” The man’s face clouded even in the sun. “You are very frank with me,” he said. “I am your sister, and I love you.” “You are a good woman, dear, and I will ponder what you have said to me.” “And you are not hurt?” “Who is hurt by a good woman’s love?” Strangely enough, that same evening, over his after-dinner port, John Strong expounded his principles with regard to the union of the sexes.