“No women in the list? Are they _all_ men?”
The Philosopher emitted a curious sound between a grunt and a growl.
“Of course you do! Trust you! ‘’Twas John and Dick and Joe and Jack and Humphrey with his flail!’ And I suppose you’re ‘Kitty, the charming girl, to carry the milking pail’?”
She gave his arm a delighted little squeeze.
“Fancy you knowing that dear old song!” she exclaimed. “Oh! And you _such_ a learned man! I should have thought it so much beneath you!”
He stroked down his moustache to hide a smile.
“Dear child!” he said, with mock-parental gravity. “I trust I am not yet out of all sympathy with the colt-like gambols of the young and foolish! I _may_ be bordering on the sere and yellow leaf, but I still look upon the tender sprouting green of unformed minds with indulgence and compassion!”
She tried to pull her arm away, but he held it firmly.
“Now, now!” he remonstrated. “Don’t hurt yourself. Whatever my faults and failings are, my muscular strength is unquestionably superior to yours!”
“Oh, how can you talk as you do!” she said. “Such nonsense!”
“I suit myself to your temperament!” he said, with a grand air. “You are full of infantile sentiment,--I try to meet it half way.”
“How good of you!” she said, and this time she succeeded in withdrawing her arm from his hold. “Is the effort exhausting?”
“Very!” And the moustache drooped over a whimsical but rather attractive smile.
She stood for a moment with her eyes downcast.
“I thought it might make it easier for you,” he said. “Don’t you see? Easier for you to--”
“Or sink to my level,” he answered, meekly--“whichever you prefer!”
“I would rather rise to your height,” she said. “A man is always superior to a woman.”
“Oh, specious flattery!” exclaimed the Philosopher. “Are you not a Suffragette?”
“I? A Suffragette? How dare you suggest such a thing!”
The Philosopher linked his arm in hers again without being repulsed.
“Thank Heaven for all its mercies!” he ejaculated, piously. “You are neither a Suffragette nor a Nagger--you are--what are you?”
“Whatever you choose to call me,” she answered, laughingly.
“These things take time,” he said. “I will consider. You are--you are--let me see--a woman! That is unfortunate.”
“You think so!” And her eyes were full of dancing merriment.