had declared himself absolutely impartial and had at once got wet with rage over cotton.  The Chief Lady Guest had explained that she herself was half English on her mother’s side, and the Lady-with-the-Bust had told how a lady friend of hers had a cousin who had travelled in Hungary.  She admitted that it was some years ago.  Things might have changed since.  Then the Interesting Man, having got the table where he wanted it, had said:  “I remember when I was last in Sofia—­by the way it is pronounced Say-ah-fee-ah—­talking with Radovitch—­or Radee-ah-vitch, as it should be sounded—­the foreign secretary, on what the Sobranje—­it is pronounced Soophrangee—­would be likely to do”—­and by the time he had done with the Sobranje no one dared speak of the war any more.

But the Hostess had got out of it the opening she wanted, and she said: 

“At any rate, it is wonderful what women have done in the war—­”

“And are doing,” echoed the Half Man with the Moon Face.

And then it was that the Hostess had said that surely every one must admit women are equal to men and the topic of the sexes was started.  All the women had been waiting for it, anyway.  It is the only topic that women care about.  Even men can stand it provided that fifty per cent or more of the women present are handsome enough to justify it.

“I hardly see how, after all that has happened, any rational person could deny for a moment,” continued the Hostess, looking straight at her husband and his Heavy Business Friend, “that women are equal and even superior to men.  Surely our brains are just as good?” and she gave an almost bitter laugh.

“Don’t you think perhaps—?” began the Smooth Gentleman.

“No, I don’t,” said the Hostess.  “You’re going to say that we are inferior in things like mathematics or in logical reasoning.  We are not.  But, after all, the only reason why we are is because of training.  Think of the thousands of years that men have been trained.  Answer me that?”

“Well, might it not be—?” began the Smooth Gentleman.

“I don’t think so for a moment,” said the Hostess.  “I think if we’d only been trained as men have for the last two or three thousand years our brains would be just as well trained for the things they were trained for as they would have been now for the things we have been trained for and in that case wouldn’t have.  Don’t you agree with me,” she said, turning to the Chief Lady Guest, whom she suddenly remembered, “that, after all, we think more clearly?”

Here the Interesting Man, who had been silent longer than an Interesting Man can, without apoplexy, began: 

“I remember once saying in London to Sir Charles Doosey—­”

But the Chief Lady Guest refused to be checked.

“We’ve been gathering some rather interesting statistics,” she said, speaking very firmly, syllable by syllable, “on that point at our Settlement.  We have measured the heads of five hundred factory girls, making a chart of them, you know, and the feet of five hundred domestic servants—­”