Page:Edgar Jepson--the four philanthropists.djvu/249

Rh "Well, you will—" she said, and stopped short.

I fell upon my breakfast with no little irritation: the necessity of the readjustment of ideas, even when it breaks slowly and gently on the mind, is sufficiently tiresome; when it is suddenly thrust upon it with regard to a matter of prime importance, it is painful. It was to be no small readjustment, as I learned at once, for all through breakfast I had to look and look again at her, observing and weighing the change, getting my eyes used to it. To bind up the hair, or leave it hanging down seems a small enough matter; but in her case it had made a beautiful woman of a charming child. It had, too, strengthened her face in a way; it seemed to have given a greater breadth to her brow, and her candid eyes had a more steadfast look in them. I had to adapt myself to this change; and I had a dim prevision that it was going to modify our brotherly and sisterly relation. I resented it; for I was content with things as they were.

The change came surely enough, but slowly. I began to lose my brotherly frankness, to treat her with more deference. I think, now, that there was some springing to life of the essential basic antagonism between the man and the woman. Beside the change in our attitude to one another, there were changes in her, too; she began to spend more money, much more money, on her dress; and she