The cottage from the window of which the MissesWilliams had looked out stands, and has stood for many ayear, in that pleasant suburban district which liesbetween Norwood, Anerley, and Forest Hill. Longbefore there had been a thought of a township there, whenthe Metropolis was still quite a distant thing, old Mr.Williams had inhabited "The Brambles," as the littlehouse was called, and had owned all the fields about it. Six or eight such cottages scattered over a rollingcountry-side were all the houses to be found there in thedays when the century was young. From afar, when thebreeze came from the north, the dull, low roar of thegreat city might be heard, like the breaking of the tideof life, while along the horizon might be seen the dimcurtain of smoke, the grim spray which that tide threwup. Gradually, however, as the years passed, the Cityhad thrown out a long brick-feeler here and there,curving, extending, and coalescing, until at last thelittle cottages had been gripped round by these redtentacles, and had been absorbed to make room for themodern villa. Field by field the estate of old Mr.Williams had been sold to the speculative builder, andhad borne rich crops of snug suburban dwellings, arrangedin curving crescents and tree-lined avenues. The fatherhad passed away before his cottage was entirely brickedround, but his two daughters, to whom the property haddescended, lived to see the last vestige of country takenfrom them. For years they had clung to the one fieldwhich faced their windows, and it was only after muchargument and many heartburnings, that they had at lastconsented that it should share the fate of the others. A broad road was driven through their quiet domain, thequarter was re-named "The Wilderness," and three square,staring, uncompromising villas began to sprout up on theother side. With sore hearts, the two shy little oldmaids watched their steady progress, and speculated as towhat fashion of neighbors chance would bring into thelittle nook which had always been their own.

And at last they were all three finished. Woodenbalconies and overhanging eaves had been added to them,so that, in the language of the advertisement, there werevacant three eligible Swiss-built villas, with sixteenrooms, no basement, electric bells, hot and cold water,and every modern convenience, including a common tennislawn, to be let at L100 a year, or L1,500 purchase. Sotempting an offer did not long remain open. Within a fewweeks the card had vanished from number one, and it wasknown that Admiral Hay Denver, V. C., C. B., with Mrs.Hay Denver and their only son, were about to move intoit. The news brought peace to the hearts of the Williamssisters. They had lived with a settled conviction thatsome wild impossible colony, some shouting, singingfamily of madcaps, would break in upon their peace. This establishment at least was irreproachable. Areference to "Men of the Time" showed them that AdmiralHay Denver was a most distinguished officer, who hadbegun his active career at Bomarsund, and had ended it atAlexandria, having managed between these two episodes tosee as much service as any man of his years. From theTaku Forts and the _Shannon_ brigade, to dhow-harryingoff Zanzibar, there was no variety of naval work whichdid not appear in his record; while the Victoria Cross,and the Albert Medal for saving life, vouched for it thatin peace as in war his courage was still of the same truetemper. Clearly a very eligible neighbor this, the moreso as they had been confidentially assured by the estateagent that Mr. Harold Denver, the son, was a most quietyoung gentleman, and that he was busy from morning tonight on the Stock Exchange.

The Hay Denvers had hardly moved in before number twoalso struck its placard, and again the ladies found thatthey had no reason to be discontented with theirneighbors. Doctor Balthazar Walker was a very well-known name in the medical world. Did not his qualifications,his membership, and the record of his writings fill along half-column in the "Medical Directory," from hisfirst little paper on the "Gouty Diathesis" in 1859 tohis exhaustive treatise upon "Affections of theVaso-Motor System" in 1884? A successful medical careerwhich promised to end in a presidentship of a college anda baronetcy, had been cut short by his sudden inheritanceof a considerable sum from a grateful patient, which hadrendered him independent for life, and had enabled him toturn his attention to the more scientific part of hisprofession, which had always had a greater charm for himthan its more practical and commercial aspect. To thisend he had given up his house in Weymouth Street, and hadtaken this opportunity of moving himself, his scientificinstruments, and his two charming daughters (he had beena widower for some years) into the more peacefulatmosphere of Norwood.

There was thus but one villa unoccupied, and it wasno wonder that the two maiden ladies watched with a keeninterest, which deepened into a dire apprehension, thecurious incidents which heralded the coming of the newtenants. They had already learned from the agent thatthe family consisted of two only, Mrs. Westmacott, awidow, and her nephew, Charles Westmacott. How simpleand how select it had sounded! Who could have foreseenfrom it these fearful portents which seemed to threatenviolence and discord among the dwellers in TheWilderness? Again the two old maids cried inheartfelt chorus that they wished they had not sold theirfield.

"Well, at least, Monica," remarked Bertha, as theysat over their teacups that afternoon, "however strangethese people may be, it is our duty to be as polite tothem as to the others."

"Most certainly," acquiesced her sister.

"Since we have called upon Mrs. Hay Denver and uponthe Misses Walker, we must call upon this Mrs. Westmacottalso."

"Certainly, dear. As long as they are living uponour land I feel as if they were in a sense our guests,and that it is our duty to welcome them."

"Then we shall call to-morrow," said Bertha, withdecision.

"Yes, dear, we shall. But, oh, I wish it was over!"

At four o'clock on the next day, the two maidenladies set off upon their hospitable errand. In theirstiff, crackling dresses of black silk, withjet-bespangled jackets, and little rows of cylindricalgrey curls drooping down on either side of their blackbonnets, they looked like two old fashion plates whichhad wandered off into the wrong decade. Half curious andhalf fearful, they knocked at the door of number three,which was instantly opened by a red-headed page-boy.

Yes, Mrs. Westmacott was at home. He ushered theminto the front room, furnished as a drawing-room, wherein spite of the fine spring weather a large fire wasburning in the grate. The boy took their cards, andthen, as they sat down together upon a settee, he settheir nerves in a thrill by darting behind a curtain witha shrill cry, and prodding at something with his foot. The bull pup which they had seen upon the day beforebolted from its hiding-place, and scuttled snarling fromthe room.

"It wants to get at Eliza," said the youth, in aconfidential whisper. "Master says she would give himmore'n he brought." He smiled affably at the two littlestiff black figures, and departed in search of hismistress.

"What--what did he say?" gasped Bertha.

"Something about a---- Oh, goodness gracious! Oh,help, help, help, help, help!" The two sisters hadbounded on to the settee, and stood there with staringeyes and skirts gathered in, while they filled the wholehouse with their yells. Out of a high wicker-work basketwhich stood by the fire there had risen a flatdiamond-shaped head with wicked green eyes which cameflickering upwards, waving gently from side to side,until a foot or more of glossy scaly neck was visible. Slowly the vicious head came floating up, while at everyoscillation a fresh burst of shrieks came fromthe settee.

"What in the name of mischief!" cried a voice, andthere was the mistress of the house standing in thedoorway. Her gaze at first had merely taken in the factthat two strangers were standing screaming upon her redplush sofa. A glance at the fireplace, however, showedher the cause of the terror, and she burst into a heartyfit of laughter.

"Charley," she shouted, "here's Eliza misbehavingagain."

"I'll settle her," answered a masculine voice, andthe young man dashed into the room. He had a brownhorse-cloth in his hand, which he threw over the basket,making it fast with a piece of twine so as to effectuallyimprison its inmate, while his aunt ran across toreassure her visitors.

"It is only a rock snake, " she explained.

"Oh, Bertha!" "Oh, Monica!" gasped the poorexhausted gentlewomen.

"She's hatching out some eggs. That is why we havethe fire. Eliza always does better when she is warm. She is a sweet, gentle creature, but no doubt she thoughtthat you had designs upon her eggs. I suppose that youdid not touch any of them?"

"Oh, let us get away, Bertha!' cried Monica, with herthin, black-gloved hands thrown forwards in abhorrence.

"Not away, but into the next room," said Mrs.Westmacott, with the air of one whose word was law. "This way, if you please! It is less warm here." Sheled the way into a very handsomely appointed library,with three great cases of books, and upon the fourth sidea long yellow table littered over with papers andscientific instruments. "Sit here, and you, there," shecontinued. "That is right. Now let me see, which of youis Miss Williams, and which Miss Bertha Williams?"

"I am Miss Williams," said Monica, still palpitating,and glancing furtively about in dread of some new horror.

"And you live, as I understand, over at the prettylittle cottage. It is very nice of you to call so early. I don't suppose that we shall get on, but still theintention is equally good." She crossed her legs andleaned her back against the marble mantelpiece.

"We thought that perhaps we might be of someassistance," said Bertha, timidly. "If there is anythingwhich we could do to make you feel more at home----"

"Oh, thank you, I am too old a traveler to feelanything but at home wherever I go. I've just come backfrom a few months in the Marquesas Islands, where I hada very pleasant visit. That was where I got Eliza. Inmany respects the Marquesas Islands now lead the world."

"Dear me!" ejaculated Miss Williams. "In whatrespect?"

"In the relation of the sexes. They have worked outthe great problem upon their own lines, and theirisolated geographical position has helped them to come toa conclusion of their own. The woman there is, as sheshould be, in every way the absolute equal of the male. Come in, Charles, and sit down. Is Eliza all right?"

"All right, aunt."

"These are our neighbors, the Misses Williams. Perhaps they will have some stout. You might bring in acouple of bottles, Charles."

"No, no, thank you! None for us!" cried her twovisitors, earnestly.

"No? I am sorry that I have no tea to offer you. Ilook upon the subserviency of woman as largely due to herabandoning nutritious drinks and invigorating exercisesto the male. I do neither." She picked up a pair offifteen-pound dumb-bells from beside the fireplace andswung them lightly about her head. "You see what may bedone on stout," said she.

"But don't you think," the elder Miss Williamssuggested timidly, "don't you think, Mrs. Westmascott,that woman has a mission of her own?"

The lady of the house dropped her dumb-bells with acrash upon the floor.

"The old cant!" she cried. "The old shibboleth! What is this mission which is reserved for woman? Allthat is humble, that is mean, that is soul-killing, thatis so contemptible and so ill-paid that none other willtouch it. All that is woman's mission. And who imposedthese limitations upon her? Who cooped her up withinthis narrow sphere? Was it Providence? Was it nature? No, it was the arch enemy. It was man."

"Oh, I say, auntie!" drawled her nephew.

"It was man, Charles. It was you and your fellows Isay that woman is a colossal monument to the selfishnessof man. What is all this boasted chivalry--these finewords and vague phrases? Where is it when we wish to putit to the test? Man in the abstract will do anything tohelp a woman. Of course. How does it work when hispocket is touched? Where is his chivalry then? Will thedoctors help her to qualify? will the lawyers help her tobe called to the bar? will the clergy tolerate her in theChurch? Oh, it is close your ranks then and refer poorwoman to her mission! Her mission! To be thankful forcoppers and not to interfere with the men while theygrabble for gold, like swine round a trough, that isman's reading of the mission of women. You may sit thereand sneer, Charles, while you look upon your victim, butyou know that it is truth, every word of it.

Terrified as they were by this sudden torrent ofwords, the two gentlewomen could not but smile at thesight of the fiery, domineering victim and the bigapologetic representative of mankind who sat meeklybearing all the sins of his sex. The lady struck amatch, whipped a cigarette from a case upon themantelpiece, and began to draw the smoke into her lungs.

"I find it very soothing when my nerves are at allruffled," she explained. "You don't smoke? Ah, you missone of the purest of pleasures--one of the few pleasureswhich are without a reaction."

Miss Williams smoothed out her silken lap.

"It is a pleasure," she said, with some approach toself-assertion, "which Bertha and I are rather tooold-fashioned to enjoy."

"No doubt, It would probably make you very ill if youattempted it. By the way, I hope that you will come tosome of our Guild meetings. I shall see that tickets aresent you."

"Your Guild?"

"It is not yet formed, but I shall lose no time informing a committee. It is my habit to establish abranch of the Emancipation Guild wherever I go. There isa Mrs. Sanderson in Anerley who is already one of theemancipated, so that I have a nucleus. It is only byorganized resistance, Miss Williams, that we can hope tohold our own against the selfish sex. Must you go,then?"

"Yes, we have one or two other visits to pay," saidthe elder sister. "You will, I am sure, excuse us. Ihope that you will find Norwood a pleasant residence."

"All places are to me simply a battle-field," sheanswered, gripping first one and then the other with agrip which crumpled up their little thin fingers. "Thedays for work and healthful exercise, the evenings toBrowning and high discourse, eh, Charles? Good-bye!" She came to the door with them, and as they glanced backthey saw her still standing there with the yellow bullpup cuddled up under one forearm, and the thin blue reekof her cigarette ascending from her lips.

"Oh, what a dreadful, dreadful woman!" whisperedsister Bertha, as they hurried down the street. "Thankgoodness that it is over."

"But she'll return the visit," answered the other. "I think that we had better tell Mary that we are not athome.