"That's quite a different thing, Mr. Balfour," said Mrs. Fairbanks. "These men go out to serve their Queen and country, and it is recognised as the proper thing, and—well, you see, it is quite different."
"I must say," exclaimed Helen, fastening to forestall the hot answer she knew to be at The Don's lips, "I agree with Mr. Brown. If a man's work calls him to Greenland, his wife ought to go with him or she ought to be willing to wait his return."
"Helen, you speak like a sentimental school-girl," replied Mrs. Fairbanks with a touch of haughty scorn. "Of course if a man is married and duty calls him to a foreign land, he must go. But why should a girl throw away her prospects and condemn herself to a life of obscurity and isolation by attaching herself to a man who chooses to take up some fantastic mission in some outlandish place or other?"
"Why? Because she loves a man whose duty calls him there," exclaimed Helen, her grey eyes glowing.
"Bravo!" replied Brown. "If I see a Western missionary wanting a helpmeet—that's the proper word, I believe—I shall know where to send him."
"Nonsense," cried Mrs. Fairbanks quite crossly, "but surely we need not discuss the question any further."
"Well, if I may offer an opinion," said The Don in a deliberate, strained voice, "that country is the place for men with enterprise who believe in themselves, and I think no man is throwing his prospects away who identifies himself with it—nor woman either, for that matter. And what is true of other professions ought to be true of the ministry."
"I agree," cried Brown, adding wickedly, "just the spot for you, Lloyd."
"Why, I should like nothing better," said Lloyd, "if circumstances indicated that my work lay there."
"Well, well, what's come to you all?" cried Mrs. Fairbanks, holding up her jewelled hands in despair.