fierce anger rose within me against George Harbinger and mankind in
general who could be so blind to Marion's excellent qualities. As I
took her in my arms and comforted her, kissing her soft cheeks and
fluffy hair, I felt that if I were a man she would be the one woman
above all others that I would desire to have and to hold henceforth and
for evermore. 'Never mind,' I said tenderly, 'some day you'll meet
another who will----'

'No, no, I never shall,' interposed Marion, now openly weeping on my
shoulder. 'I shall never interest any one; I know that now. You can't
understand, Netta, for men are attracted towards you. If Henry died
tomorrow, you'd have half a dozen offers of marriage at once.'

I was rather startled at this suggestion, which somehow hinted
disregard for the unconscious Henry.

'I think I must lack charm,' went on Marion in a choked voice. 'Who
was it described charm as a--a--sort of a bloom on a woman, and said if
she had that she didn't need anything else?'

'It was Barrie,' I said, stroking her hair, 'but don't take any notice
of him, dear.'

'It's just what a man would say. Oh, Netta, why is life so hard to a
woman? Why must she always be the one to stifle her feelings, repress
her natural instincts, wait for man to take the lead? Why can't she be
the leading spirit if she wishes, without being humiliated? Why
shouldn't women propose?'

'That's just what I've been writing about,' I said involuntarily.