Miss Baker could ride; not a doubt about that, thought Philip. She sat squarely in her saddle, hands down, right shoulder well back; her habit skirt was very short, she wore a stiff white shirt and collar, and a linen coat. The whole effect was neat and smart and pleasing. How she chattered as they rode over the bare, dusty plain! Some of her theories rather startled her cavalier; for example, she considered it immoral of people to have large families unless they could afford to educate the children highly—this with reference to some friends of Miss Abigail's who had spent the previous day in the Zenana Mission camp on their way to the nearest station, a missionary with his spouse and offspring.
"Did you tell them so?" asked Flint with amused curiosity.
"Yes, of course I did; and I asked them how they were going to provide for three boys and two girls in the future."
"What did they say?"
"They said the Lord would provide, and that the mission granted an extra allowance for each child!"
"Then you can hardly blame them, I suppose."
"I think that clergymen, and doctors, and schoolmasters ought all to be celibates. They should be able to give their whole attention to their work unhampered by domestic affairs."
"That is expecting a good deal, surely?"
"I don't see it. Marriage isn't everything. Now if I were a man I should never marry."