"And why not, O Riptonus?" said Adrian. "Art unaware that woman
cosmopolitan is woman consummate? and dost grumble to pay the small price
for the splendid gem?"

"Well, I don't like women to smoke," said plain Ripton.

"Why mayn't they do what men do?" the hero cried impetuously. "I hate
that contemptible narrow-mindedness. It's that makes the ruin and
horrors I see. Why mayn't they do what men do? I like the women who are
brave enough not to be hypocrites. By heaven! if these women are bad, I
like them better than a set of hypocritical creatures who are all show,
and deceive you in the end."

"Bravo!" shouted Adrian. "There speaks the regenerator."

Ripton, as usual, was crushed by his leader. He had no argument. He
still thought women ought not to smoke; and he thought of one far away,
lonely by the sea, who was perfect without being cosmopolitan.

The Pilgrim's Scrip remarks that: "Young men take joy in nothing so much
as the thinking women Angels: and nothing sours men of experience more
than knowing that all are not quite so."

The Aphorist would have pardoned Ripton Thompson his first Random
extravagance, had he perceived the simple warm-hearted worship of
feminine goodness Richard's young bride had inspired in the breast of the
youth. It might possibly have taught him to put deeper trust in our
nature.

Ripton thought of her, and had a feeling of sadness. He wandered about