Lady Charlotte, however, would be the foremost to swoop down on the secretary's ideas about the education of women.
On that subject, Aminta said she did not know what to think.
Now, if a man states the matter he thinks, and a woman does but listen, whether inclining to agree or not, a perceptible stamp is left on soft wax. Lord Ormont told her so, with cavalier kindness.
She confessed 'she did not know what to think,' when the secretary proposed the education and collocation of boys and girls in one group, never separated, declaring it the only way for them to learn to know and to respect one another. They were to learn together, play together, have matches together, as a scheme for stopping the mischief between them.
'But, my dear girl, don't you see, the devilry was intended by Nature. Life would be the coldest of dishes without it.' And as for mixing the breeched and petticoated in those young days—'I can't enter into it,' my lord considerately said. 'All I can tell you is, I know boys.'
Aminta persisted in looking thoughtful. 'Things are bad, as they are now,' she said.
'Always were—always will be. They were intended to be, if we are to call them bad. Botched mendings will only make them worse.'
'Which side suffers?'
'Both; and both like it. One side must be beaten at any game. It's off and on, pretty equal—except in the sets where one side wears thick boots. Is this fellow for starting a mixed sexes school? Funny mothers!'
'I suppose—' Aminta said, and checked the supposition. 'The mothers would not leave their girls unless they were confident . . . ?'