"For my part," said Redwood, reluctantly allowing Bensington to drag him
into the argument, "I must confess that, considering all the evidence--"

"Oh I if you do _that_," said Mr. Bensington's cousin Jane, "instead of
using your eyes like a sensible person--"

"Well, but really, Miss Bensington--!"

"Oh! Go _on!_" said Cousin Jane. "You men are all alike."

"Considering all the evidence, this certainly falls within the
definition--no doubt it's abnormal and hypertrophied, but
still--especially since it was hatched from the egg of a normal
hen--Yes, I think, Miss Bensington, I must admit--this, so far as one
can call it anything, is a sort of chick."

"You mean it's a chick?" said cousin Jane.

"I _think_ it's a chick," said Redwood.

"What NONSENSE!" said Mr. Bensington's cousin Jane, and "Oh!" directed
at Redwood's head, "I haven't patience with you," and then suddenly she
turned about and went out of the room with a slam.

"And it's a very great relief for me to see it too, Bensington," said
Redwood, when the reverberation of the slam had died away. "In spite of
its being so big."

Without any urgency from Mr. Bensington he sat down in the low arm-chair
by the fire and confessed to proceedings that even in an unscientific