men they are, as a rule, the most professional.'

'Yes; perhaps they are. This man is rather of a melancholy turn of
mind, I think.'

'Has the managing clerk any family?' she mildly asked, after a
while, pouring out some more tea.

'Family; no!'

'Well, dear Owen, how should I know?'

'Why, of course he isn't married. But there happened to be a
conversation about women going on in the office, and I heard him say
what he should wish his wife to be like.'

'What would he wish his wife to be like?' she said, with great
apparent lack of interest.

'O, he says she must be girlish and artless: yet he would be loth
to do without a dash of womanly subtlety, 'tis so piquant. Yes, he
said, that must be in her; she must have womanly cleverness. "And
yet I should like her to blush if only a cock-sparrow were to look
at her hard," he said, "which brings me back to the girl again: and
so I flit backwards and forwards. I must have what comes, I
suppose," he said, "and whatever she may be, thank God she's no
worse. However, if he might give a final hint to Providence," he
said, "a child among pleasures, and a woman among pains was the
rough outline of his requirement."'