"The fact is," he broke out impulsively at last, "I am torn asunder on this subject of women doctors—torn asunder. There is a terrible necessity for them—terrible—and yet, what a sacrifice!"
Mona could scarcely believe her ears. This was very different from the direct, brutal attack she had anticipated. Instinctively she laid down her armour, and left herself at his mercy.
"I think you are unusually liberal to admit the necessity," she said, but her sweet earnest face said much more for her than her words.
"Liberal!" he said. "What man can live and not admit it? It makes me mad to think how a woman can allow herself to be pulled about by a man. Fifty years hence no woman will have the courage to own that it ever happened to her. But the sacrifice is a fearful one. Picture my allowing Evelyn to go through what you are going through!" And his glance rested fondly on his daughter's fair head.
"I agree with you so far," said Mona, "that no woman should undertake such work under the age of twenty-three."
"Twenty-three!" he repeated. "It is bad for a man, but a man has some virtues which remain untouched by it. A woman loses everything that makes womanhood fair and attractive. You must be becoming hard and blunted?"
He looked at her as if demanding an answer.
"I hope not," said Mona quietly, and her eyes met his.
"You hope not!" He dashed back her words with all the vehemence of an evangelical preacher who receives them in answer to his all-important question. "You hope not! Is that all you can say? You are not sure?"
"It is difficult to judge of one's self," said Mona thoughtfully, turning her face full to his piercing gaze; "and one's own opinion would not be worth having. I believe I am not becoming hardened. I am sure my friends would say I am not."