Yet Mrs. Talespinner herself has none of these moral twistings, though it is through no fault of her own if opinions to the contrary get abroad; for she has that perverse spirit which always prompts the excursionist to walk in those places where he reads that “trespassers will be prosecuted.” True, this very spirit dates from Eve herself, but it is the key-note of the modern “realistic” novelist. Conventionality writes up the warning, and the literary realist defiantly trespasses, and takes the consequences, which are invariably notoriety and its attendant commercial success. Mrs. Talespinner is, as a matter of fact, morally quite conventional, though she indulges in conversational and literary unconventionalities. But, fortunately, she has a husband who understands her as woman while he admires her as writer, being able to distinguish between her intellectual self and her sentimental. Thus he can sympathise with her literary ambitions without necessarily approving the results, and thus he finds happiness in his home, where a less discriminating and less generous man might find only domestic unrest. For with Mrs. Talespinner her literary work is the dominating interest of her life, though she will tell you, and convince herself, that all her ambition is centred in her little sons, whom she purposes educating with a view to their one day being Prime Minister and Lord Chancellor, as these, to quote her own words are “the only professions which are not overcrowded.” This is the extent of Mrs. Talespinner’s practical interest in her nursery—the future careers of her baby sons. She does not spend much time with them during the day, not that she is not very fond of them, but children fidget her and interrupt her writing. When, however, she does admit them to her presence, she does not attempt to play with them, but talks to them seriously and grandly of her pride in their progress towards high estates, and makes them promise, poor little mites! to be Prime Ministers and Lord Chancellors, and instructs them prematurely in their duties. As to seeing to the details of their nursery existence—well, they have an excellent and trustworthy nurse, and their father enjoys that kind of thing. Hers is the pride and privilege to care for them intellectually. She has made up her mind that they shall be great men, that their greatness may reflect upon her as their mother, and she candidly tells you that she only wishes to write brilliantly and successfully enough for people in after years to say, “No wonder they are such talented men—they had a clever mother.”