“No, I didn't Theosophilander. Jack says”-- “Never mind Jack. What a husband says is known before. What did you do?” “I made a lasting impression.” “So have I--for four months. But that didn't console me in the least. I hated the man. Will you stop smiling in that inscrutable way and tell me what you mean?” Mrs. Mallowe told. * * * * * * “And--you--mean--to--say that it is absolutely Platonic on both sides?” “Absolutely, or I should never have taken it up.” “And his last promotion was due to you?” Mrs. Mallowe nodded. “And you warned him against the Topsham girl?” Another nod. “And told him of Sir Dugald Delane's private memo about him?” A third nod. “Why?” “What a question to ask a woman! Because it amused me at first. I am proud of my property now. If I live he shall continue to be successful. Yes, I will put him upon the straight road to Knighthood, and everything else that a man values. The rest depends upon himself.” “Polly, you are a most extraordinary woman.” “Not in the least. I'm concentrated, that's all. You diffuse yourself, dear; and though all Simla knows your skill in managing a team”-- “Can't you choose a prettier word?” “Team, of half a dozen, from The Mussuck to the Hawley Boy, you gain nothing by it. Not even amusement.” “And you?” “Try my recipe. Take a man, not a boy, mind, but an almost mature, unattached man, and be this guide, philosopher, and friend. You'll find it the most interesting occupation that you ever embarked on. It can be done--you needn't look like that--because I've done it.” “There's an element of risk about it that makes the notion attractive. I'll get such a man and say to him, 'Now, understand that there must be no flirtation. Do exactly what I tell you, profit by my instruction and counsels, and all will yet be well,' as Toole says. Is that the idea?” “More or less,” said Mrs. Mallowe with an unfathomable smile. “But be sure he understands that there must be no flirtation.” II Dribble-dribble-trickle-trickle What a lot of raw dust! My dollie's had an accident And out came all the sawdust! --Nursery Rhyme. So Mrs. Hauksbee, in “The Foundry” which overlooks Simla Mall, sat at the feet of Mrs. Mallowe and gathered wisdom. The end of the Conference was the Great Idea upon which Mrs. Hauksbee so plumed herself. “I warn you,” said Mrs. Mallowe, beginning to repent of her suggestion, “that the matter is not half so easy as it looks. Any woman--even the Topsham girl--can catch a man, but very, very few know how to manage him when caught.” “My child,” was the answer, “I've been a female St. Simon Stylites looking down upon men for these--these years past. Ask The Mussuck whether I can manage them.” Mrs. Hauksbee departed humming, “I'll go to him and say to him in manner most ironical.” Mrs. Mallowe laughed to herself. Then she grew suddenly sober. “I wonder whether I've done well in advising that amusement? Lucy's a clever woman, but a thought too careless.”