Haunts of ancient peace . rme that invitation which may otherwise be with-held. After all, women, whether better or worse. no HAUNTS OF ANCIENT PEACE are still a necessary evil, if only because of thewiles I am told they employ to cheer men intheir moments of discouragement and continualself-depreciation. An evil, observed our Host, of whichsome of us are disposed to say, Evil, be thoumy Good ! And yet, said Lamia, I am told we arenot infrequently spoken of, in private malesociety, as a — ahem — nuisance! I wonderif we deserve the ill-natured things that have,during all time, been spoken and w
Haunts of ancient peace . rme that invitation which may otherwise be with-held. After all, women, whether better or worse. no HAUNTS OF ANCIENT PEACE are still a necessary evil, if only because of thewiles I am told they employ to cheer men intheir moments of discouragement and continualself-depreciation. An evil, observed our Host, of whichsome of us are disposed to say, Evil, be thoumy Good ! And yet, said Lamia, I am told we arenot infrequently spoken of, in private malesociety, as a — ahem — nuisance! I wonderif we deserve the ill-natured things that have,during all time, been spoken and written ofus by men ? I suppose, said the Poet, some of it isdeserved, but much of it is not. In onesupreme respect, women certainly show theirsuperiority to their maligners. How do they do that ? asked our Hostess. Men, he replied, too often get, and for-get. Women give, and forgive. Hark! said our Host. There is theluncheon-bell. The children came rushing out of the housetowards us, and Lamia ran forward to RECUMBENT ANCESTORS HAUNTS OF ANCIENT PEACE iii What think you, asked the Poet, ofLamia ? She is dear, answered our Host. She is so nice, added Veronica, that itwill not be easy to find the man equallyso. Being the true woman, subjoined thePoet, that has been so admirably describedfor us this morning, she is sure to think himso. Yes, I observed, I hope not too pro-saically, as the widowed Florentine donna difacenda in our Winter-Quarters said one dayto Veronica of her deceased husband, Fu unoracolo: He was an oracle of wisdom. She at least was wise, said our Hostess,unless her declaration of his infallibility wasbut a posthumous panegyric. But the most delightful things end at last,and on the morrow we were to leave this dig-nified and still undesecrated Haunt of AncientPeace. A certain foreshadowing of the sadnesswe should then feel seemed to be on us all, aswe sate, for the last time, in the mellow Autumnmoonlight. There were more pauses than usual iiz HAUN
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