“There would be no difficulty in England for a man,” said Max Hereford, “but a woman cannot get a divorce here unless she can prove cruelty as well as adultery on the part of her husband. It is only one of the instances of our scandalous habit of setting up different standards of morality for men and women.” “How much longer are the English going to put up with such a grave injustice?” said Macneillie. “Not long, I fancy, when once they realise it. But at present half of them are ignorant of the true state of things, while the evil-minded are of course unwilling to rob themselves of what they regard as a prerogative. The law as it stands is not only unjust to women but to all moral men. How easily one can picture a case where, because divorce was not granted, it was impossible for the innocent woman to marry a man who loved her.” Macneillie assented quietly. No one could have guessed how terribly this suggestion moved him, how clearly he saw in his own mind the picture of an innocent woman and an upright law-abiding man with their lives wrecked by this double-standard of morality. “I think,” he said presently, “that at any rate in Miss Greville’s case there will be little difficulty in proving Sir Roderick’s cruelty.” “I hope it may be so,” said Max Hereford, “but I understand from her solicitor that different views prevail as to what does exactly constitute legal cruelty. The case is not likely to come on yet for many months and the suspense must be terribly trying for her, far worse of course than for anyone in private life.” “Her decision to stay at Monkton Verney till the case is over seems to me wise,” said Macneillie. “Your Cave of Adullam is a great Godsend. I wonder what made you think of such a plan.” “Oh, the ‘cave’ was my wife’s doing,” said Max Hereford. “Miss Claremont is delighted to have her old friend Miss Greville there, and since Barry Sterne has undertaken the entire management of her theatre there is no need for her to be troubled in any way about outside things. Why Flo, Kittie,” he exclaimed breaking off as two pretty little girls darted into the room, their sunburnt faces aglow with eagerness. “Daddy, there’s a man with the beautifullest voice you ever heard and we want sixpence for him,” they cried in a breath, “do come and hear him.” And by sheer force of determination the two small elves dragged their father from the depths of his easy chair. “The tyranny of daughters is a thing you have yet to learn, Mr. Macneillie,” he said with a smile, as with one elf on his shoulder and the other impetuously pulling at his hand he sauntered out to the front door.