“You mean,” persisted the Minor Poet, “you would have her think also of her dinner, of her clothes, her necessities, luxuries.”
“It is not only for herself,” answered the Old Maid.
“For whom?” demanded the Minor Poet.
The white hands of the Old Maid fluttered on her lap, revealing her trouble; for of the old school is this sweet friend of mine.
“There are the children to be considered,” I explained. “A woman feels it even without knowing. It is her instinct.”
The Old Maid smiled on me her thanks.
“It is where I was leading,” said the Minor Poet. “Woman has been appointed by Nature the trustee of the children. It is her duty to think of them, to plan for them. If in marriage she does not take the future into consideration, she is untrue to her trust.”
“Before you go further,” interrupted the Philosopher, “there is an important point to be considered. Are children better or worse for a pampered upbringing? Is not poverty often the best school?”
“It is what I always tell George,” remarked the Woman of the World, “when he grumbles at the tradesmen’s books. If Papa could only have seen his way to being a poor man, I feel I should have been a better wife.”