"No," said Kit, pulling himself together and becoming both manly and heroic; "you had no business to listen to Mr. Hendle and Mr. Leigh; you had no business to tell Mr. Mallien what you overheard; and you had no business to meddle with that will." "Hear! Hear!" said Sophy, clapping her hands. "I agree with Kit. And, as you have behaved so badly to Mr. Hendle, I don't see what he could do but send you away." After a speechless pause Mrs. Beatson appealed to her son. "Kit, will you sit there and hear me insulted?" "Sophy doesn't mean to insult you, mother," said Kit quietly, and looking as white as he was determined. "You must be reasonable." "I am reasonable!" cried his mother violently. "There never was such an unreasonable person as you are. My own son turns against me," wailed the exasperating woman, again taking out her handkerchief to sob--"my own son, and I nursed him as a baby." Kit and Sophy looked at each other helplessly, wholly undecided how to deal with this impossible woman. Mrs. Beatson only saw things in her own way and expected everyone else to see them as she concluded they should be seen. She had no common sense; she had no logic, she had no control over her temper, and when anyone disagreed with her, she made herself objectionable in every way. Miss Tollart, face to face with this unreasonable feminine nature, heaved a sigh. "Well, I don't wonder that we don't get the vote," she mourned. "We aren't in the least ready for it." "Hush, Sophy!" said Kit, touching her hand. "We must understand more about the matter. It can't be allowed to rest here." "You promised to hold your tongue!" shrieked Mrs. Beatson, rather scared by the look on her son's face. "I shall do so, so far as is consistent with my honor," retorted Kit bluntly; "and I'm not going to allow Mr. Hendle to get into trouble. He has been a good friend to you, mother, and a good friend to me. If you had a spark of gratitude toward him, you would never have behaved as you have done." "How dare you speak to me in that way?" "Because the time is past when you could play the tyrant." "Tyrant! Tyrant! This to your mother, who bore you." "I don't wish to be disrespectful, mother, but you are so unreasonable that you compel me to be so. It is all very well so far as things are between ourselves; but in this story which you have told serious matters are concerned. Your share in them is not honorable." "I can do what I like," said Mrs. Beatson in a more subdued tone, for the attitude taken up by her son impressed her unpleasantly. He was no longer a boy to be bullied, but a man to be conciliated. "No, you can't do what you like when your doings bring you into trouble with the law," insisted Kit, and Sophy nodded her approbation, which was odd considering how she dared authority as a suffragist. But in her own way she was as unreasonable as Mrs. Beatson, although she would never have admitted as much, and would have been indignant at the mere suggestion.