Cecil had decidedly not been disgusted, except by the present strong language; and not being ready at repartee, she was pleased when Rosamond exclaimed, “Ah! that’s just what men like, to get instructed in private by us poor women, and then gain all the credit for originality.”
“It is the right way,” said the mother. “The woman has much power of working usefully and gaining information, but the one thing that is not required of her is to come forward in public.”
“Very convenient for the man!” laughed Rosamond.
“And scarcely fair,” said Cecil.
“Quite fair,” said Rosamond, turning round, so that Cecil only now perceived that she had been speaking in jest. “Any woman who is worth a sixpence had rather help her husband to shine than shine herself.”
“Besides,” said Mrs. Poynsett, “the delicate edges of true womanhood ought not to be frayed off by exposure in public.”
“Yes,” said Raymond. “The gain of an inferior power of man in public would be far from compensated by the loss in private of that which man can never supply.”
“Granted,” said Rosamond slyly though sleepily, “that it always is an inferior power of man, which it does not seem to have been in the actual case.”
“It was a point on which she had special knowledge and information,” said Mrs. Poynsett.
“And you were forced to thank her,” said Cecil.