“College?  What college?  Girton?”

“Oh, no, nothing half so grand.  It was a college where you get certificates that you are qualified to be a mistress in a Board school.  I wish it had been Girton.”

“Do you?”—­you are too good for that, he was going to add, but changed it to—­“I think you were as well away.  I don’t care about the Girton stamp; those of them whom I have known are so hard.”

“So much the better for them,” she answered.  “I should like to be hard as a stone; a stone cannot feel.  Don’t you think that women ought to learn, then?”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Yes, certainly.”

“Have you learnt anything?”

“I have taught myself a little and picked up something at the college.  But I have no real knowledge, only a smattering of things.”

“What do you know—­French and German?”

“Yes.”

“Latin?”

“Yes, I know something of it.”

“Greek?”

“I can read it fairly, but I am not a Greek scholar.”

“Mathematics?”

“No, I gave them up.  There is no human nature about mathematics.  They work everything to a fixed conclusion that must result.  Life is not like that; what ought to be a square comes out a right angle, and x always equals an unknown quantity, which is never ascertained till you are dead.”

“Good gracious!” thought Geoffrey to himself between the strokes of the paddle, “what an extraordinary girl.  A flesh-and-blood blue-stocking, and a lovely one into the bargain.  At any rate I will bowl her out this time.”

“Perhaps you have read law too?” he said with suppressed sarcasm.

“I have read some,” she answered calmly.  “I like law, especially Equity law; it is so subtle, and there is such a mass of it built upon such a small foundation.  It is like an overgrown mushroom, and the top will fall off one day, however hard the lawyers try to prop it up.  Perhaps you can tell me——­”

“No, I’m sure I cannot,” he answered.  “I’m not a Chancery man.  I am Common law, and I don’t take all knowledge for my province.  You positively alarm me, Miss Granger.  I wonder that the canoe does not sink beneath so much learning.”

“Do I?” she answered sweetly.  “I am glad that I have lived to frighten somebody.  I meant that I like Equity to study; but if I were a barrister, I would be Common law, because there is so much more life and struggle about it.  Existence is not worth having unless one is struggling with something and trying to overcome it.”

“Dear me, what a reposeful prospect,” said Geoffrey, aghast.  He had certainly never met such a woman as this before.

“Repose is only good when it is earned,” went on the fair philosopher, “and in order to fit one to earn some more, otherwise it becomes idleness, and that is misery.  Fancy being idle when one has such a little time to live.  The only thing to do is to work and stifle thought.  I suppose that you have a large practice, Mr. Bingham?”