girl for her heart, she gave me a stone. And I believe that, far oftener than most men suspect, the place in the pectoral cavity of women assigned to the heart is occupied by some far harder substance. You remember that lovely creature in Balzac whose lover overheard her in solitude exclaiming, 'My God! O my God!'; and the words seemed to him to come from the uttermost depths of her heart and made him love her more passionately than ever, till he learned that she had merely been anxious about her stock speculations—and that the deep suspiration really came from the woman's purse."
Cornelia was not impressed by this reference to Balzac. She has a capable business head herself, and manages her property, which is considerable, with more judgment than her husband displays. She ignored the malice in my speech and merely remarked:—
"A nice woman need not be a fool in money matters."
"No," I continued, "and many of them aren't. That is why I believe many of them are not making a mistake but following a real vocation when they turn to business. I don't know much about their hearts, but I have had extensive oppor-
