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 a very curious sex. We're most curious of all in the way we lump yours together. When one of us hates one of you, she's just as likely to abuse another of you as the one she hates, and it relieves her almost as much as if she'd actually abused that one. I was angry with my father—and the queer truth is, I was angry with the person at home from whom I was separated. You mayn't understand it at all; but along with the rest of what she feels, a girl always is angry with the person from whom she's separated in this particular way—it seems weak of him to allow it. And then, you see, my father showed himself so much the stronger of the two; the contrast wasn't favourable. Well, so there were two men I was furious with—and I took it out on you! I struck at the whole sex through you, and when I had time to think it over I saw I'd had my revenge and began to feel a great deal better and be decent to people again. So you're really my 'cure,' because I really did hit you."

"Did you?"

"Don't you know it yet?" she cried; and although he comprehended what she said as a reproach to his dullness, his conceit and his pride, she seemed friendlier than ever. "Why, of course I did!" she said. "I told you the truth about yourself, the insulting