Theodore was a determined individualist and warm supporter of Chairo's. It was insufferable, he said, that an artist like himself--and bowing condescendingly to Anna, he added--"and our young lady, too"--should have to work half the day for the state, when under individualistic conditions thousands of rich men would have been delighted to cover him with gold in recognition of his services. I could not help thinking of a distinguished cook I had known in Paris once who, under these very individualistic conditions, had struggled with debt all his life and never escaped from it. After Theodore had served the birds he withdrew. We were enjoying the dish when Anna surprised us by saying, as though she had just made the discovery: "This is really quite nice!" "Why, my dear child," said her father, "it is a _chef d'oeuvre_! What have you been thinking about all this time?" "I have been looking at Theodore; do you know, he has a good head to sculpt." We all laughed at this view of Theodore, and Harmes said: "This kind of thing is rather a jump from what we have at the colony." "Is the food bad there?" asked I. "No, not bad; but nothing nice until we can afford to pay for it with the wages we earn." This led to a long account by Harmes of how the colony was managed and the system--often proposed in my day--for slowly restoring the inmates of a reformatory to social life. Harmes spoke so freely of the whole subject that I ventured to ask him: "And Neaera--was it her fault or yours?" Harmes' eye flashed a moment, and then looking around the table, and finally at Ariston, asked: "Can I speak freely?" "Certainly," said Ariston. "Our friend here knows, perhaps, more about Neaera than you do." "Am I to condole with you, then?" asked Harmes. "No," I answered. "I had the advantage over you of age and experience." "She is a little devil," said Harmes. "And the devil of it is that if I were to see her to-morrow I believe I should want to make love to her again." "Harmes!" exclaimed his mother protestingly. "Oh, I have learned my lesson! I won't make love to her again; but the amazing thing is that after all she has cost me I cannot make up my mind to dislike her as I ought." "You needn't dislike her," said Ariston, "any more than you need dislike a stone that breaks your leg." "I cannot but think, however," said Campbell, "that the punishment was out of proportion to the offense." "No," said Ann, to my great surprise. "You must not say that. No one has suffered more from Harmes' confinement in the colony than I, and yet I am bound to say that violence is to my mind--and to the mind of all of us women--so dangerous a thing that I prefer my son should be an innocent victim than that it should go unpunished." We had a delicious bottle of California Burgundy with our birds, and I asked whether this was provided by the state.