haven't told you about Marion yet. I'm afraid I shall never learn
construction, in spite of Henry.

Well, Marion is Henry's sister. She is what you would call a really
nice girl. Everybody likes her and sends for her when in trouble or
needing advice. Women adore her and tell her all their secrets, and
get her to alter their dresses for them. Men seek her company in order
to pour out their worries and anxieties into her sympathetic ear. She
is always acting as intermediary in love affairs that are not running
smoothly and need the intervention or assistance of a third party.
But--and this is where the poignant touch comes in--she never had a
love affair of her own. I could not understand why. It isn't that
she's unattractive, being quite pretty in that feminine clinging way
which we generally connect with the Victorian era.

There is a certain type of man who admires this type of woman. He
writes to the newspapers, clamouring loudly to be told where the 'nice'
girls are (the girls of modest mien who know only the gentle,
housewifely arts), and signs himself 'Old-Fashioned' or 'Early
Victorian,' or merely gives baffling initials, always being careful not
to disclose his identity. If he really wants these sort of girls why
doesn't he give a name and address to which they can be forwarded?

It is my belief that men like these 'nice' homely women as mothers, but
do not seek for them as wives. But, I ask, how are they to be
mothers--and still remain 'nice'--if they are not first to be selected
as wives? If the position isn't faced they will soon die out
altogether and become as rare as the brontosaurus. We shall go to
museums and see exhibited, 'Fossilized remains of "Nice Girl": supposed
to exist in early part of twentieth century. Rare specimen.'