"You may bracket the new woman and the woman with a mission together, but you can never make them one. That they have some things in common is nothing to the point. The new woman, as I understand her, has no mission, not even a commission. The new woman is Protest, embodied and at present skirted, but with a protest against the skirt. Her most longed-for goal is the Unattainable, and if by some chance she should reach it she would be dismayed and annoyed. Meantime, with the vision before her eyes of the table of the gods, she cries aloud that she is forced to feed on husks, and as she must hug something, hugs a grievance." "Philip Derwent," interposed the vicar's wife, "you are in danger of becoming vulgar." "Vulgarity, madam," he rejoined, "is in these days the brand of refinement. It is only your truly refined man who has the courage to be vulgar in polite society. No other dares to call a spade a spade or a lie a lie. Those who wish to be considered refined speak of the one as an 'agricultural implement' and of the other as a 'terminological inexactitude.' But to return to our sheep who are clamouring for wolves' clothing----" "Really, Philip!" protested the vicar's wife, pursing her lips more emphatically than ever. "The latest incarnation of Protest, if I may so speak, takes the form of a demand for the suffrage, and is accompanied by much beating of drums and----" "Smashing of windows," I ventured. He bowed. "And smashing of windows. By and by they will get their desire." "And so have fulfilled their mission," the squire smiled. "By no means; they have no mission; they have simply a hunger, or rather a pain which goes away when their appetite is stayed, and comes on again before the meal has been well digested. Then they go forth once more seeking whom or what they may devour." "Tell us of the woman with a mission," I pleaded. "Miss Holden is anxious to discover in what category she is to be classed," laughed the squire. "You are treading on dangerous ground, Derwent. Let me advise you to proceed warily." "Mr. Evans, when a boy at school I learned the Latin maxim--'Truth is often attended with danger,' but I am sure Miss Holden will be merciful towards its humble votary." I smiled and he continued: "The woman with a mission, Miss Holden, is an altogether superior creature. She may be adorable; on the other hand she may be a nuisance and a bore. Everything depends on the mission--and the woman." "A safe answer, Philip," sneered the vicar's wife, and the squire smiled. "There is no other safe way, madam, than the way of Truth, and I am treading it now. Even if the woman be a nuisance, even if the mission be unworthy, she who makes it hers may be ennobled. Let us assume that she believes with all her heart that she has been sent into the world for one definite purpose--shall we say to work for the abatement of the smoke nuisance? That involves, amongst other things----"