without a thimble?"

"Impossible!" said Percival. "And I don't think I can get you another
to-morrow: I am going out. On Thursday I shall come back and bring you one
that won't fit. Friday you must go with me to change it. Yes, we shall
manage three days' holiday very nicely."

"Nonsense! But it _is_ your fault if I am idle."

"Why, yes. Having no thimble, you are naturally unable to finish your book,
for instance."

"Oh, I sha'n't finish that: I don't like it. The heroine is so dreadfully
strong-minded I don't believe in her. She never does anything wrong; and
though she suffers tortures--absolute agony, you know--she always rises to
the occasion--nasty thing!"

"A wonderful woman," said Percival, idly picking sprays of jasmine as he
spoke.

Sissy's voice sank lower: "Do you think there are really any women like
that?"

"Oh yes, I suppose so."

She took the flowers which he held out, and looked doubtfully into his
face: "But--do you _like_ them, Percival?"

"Make the question a little clearer," he said. "I don't like your ranting,
pushing, unwomanly women who can talk of nothing but their rights. They are