its　narrowness；　I　demand　the　right　to　think　for　myself。　You　pose
  as　an　advanced　man。　Let　me　tell　you　that　I　was　an　advanced　man
  before　you　were　born。
  TANNER。　I　knew　it　was　a　long　time　ago。
  RAMSDEN。　I　am　as　advanced　as　ever　I　was。　I　defy　you　to　prove　that
  I　have　ever　hauled　down　the　flag。　I　am　more　advanced　than　ever　I
  was。　I　grow　more　advanced　every　day。
  TANNER。　More　advanced　in　years；　Polonius。
  RAMSDEN。　Polonius！　So　you　are　Hamlet；　I　suppose。
  TANNER。　No：　I　am　only　the　most　impudent　person　you've　ever　met。
  That's　your　notion　of　a　thoroughly　bad　character。　When　you　want
  to　give　me　a　piece　of　your　mind；　you　ask　yourself；　as　a　just　and
  upright　man；　what　is　the　worst　you　can　fairly　say　of　me。　Thief；
  liar；　forger；　adulterer；　perjurer；　glutton；　drunkard？　Not　one　of
  these　names　fit　me。　You　have　to　fall　back　on　my　deficiency　in
  shame。　Well；　I　admit　it。　I　even　congratulate　myself；　for　if　I
  were　ashamed　of　my　real　self；　I　should　cut　as　stupid　a　figure　as
  any　of　the　rest　of　you。　Cultivate　a　little　impudence；　Ramsden；
  and　you　will　become　quite　a　remarkable　man。
  RAMSDEN。　I　have　no
  TANNER。　You　have　no　desire　for　that　sort　of　notoriety。　Bless　you；
  I　knew　that　answer　would　come　as　well　as　I　know　that　a　box　of
  matches　will　come　out　of　an　automatic　machine　when　I　put　a　penny
  in　the　slot：　you　would　be　ashamed　to　say　anything　else。
  The　crushing　retort　for　which　Ramsden　has　been　visibly　collecting
  his　forces　is　lost　for　ever；　for　at　this　point　Octavius　returns
  with　Miss　Ann　Whitefield　and　her　mother；　and　Ramsden　springs　up
  and　hurries　to　the　door　to　receive　them。　Whether　Ann　is
  good…looking　or　not　depends　upon　your　taste；　also　and　perhaps
  chiefly　on　your　age　and　sex。　To　Octavius　she　is　an　enchantingly
  beautiful　woman；　in　whose　presence　the　world　becomes
  transfigured；　and　the　puny　limits　of　individual　consciousness　are
  suddenly　made　infinite　by　a　mystic　memory　of　the　whole　life　of
  the　race　to　its　beginnings　in　the　east；　or　even　back　to　the
  paradise　from　which　it　fell。　She　is　to　him　the　reality　of
  romance；　the　leaner　good　sense　of　nonsense；　the　unveiling　of　his
  eyes；　the　freeing　of　his　soul；　the　abolition　of　time；　place　and
  circumstance；　the　etherealization　of　his　blood　into　rapturous
  rivers　of　the　very　water　of　life　itself；　the　revelation　of　all
  the　mysteries　and　the　sanctification　of　all　the　dogmas。　To　her
  mother　she　is；　to　put　it　as　moderately　as　possible；　nothing
  whatever　of　the　kind。　Not　that　Octavius's　admiration　is　in　any
  way　ridiculous　or　discreditable。　Ann　is　a　well　formed　creature；
  as　far　as　that　goes；　and　she　is　perfectly　ladylike；　graceful；　and
  comely；　with　ensnaring　eyes　and　hair。　Besides；　instead　of　making
  herself　an　eyesore；　like　her　mother；　she　has　devised　a　mourning
  costume　of　black　and　violet　silk　which　does　honor　to　her　late
  father　and　reveals　the　family　tradition　of　brave　unconventionality
  by　which　Ramsden　sets　such　store。
  But　all　this　is　beside　the　point　as　an　explanation　of　Ann's
  charm。　Turn　up　her　nose；　give　a　cast　to　her　eye；　replace　her
  black　and　violet　confection　by　the　apron　and　feathers　of　a　flower
  girl；　strike　all　the　aitches　out　of　her　speech；　and　Ann　would
  still　make　men　dream。　Vitality　is　as　common　as　humanity；　but；
  like　humanity；　it　sometimes　rises　to　genius；　and　Ann　is　one　of
  the　vital　geniuses。　Not　at　all；　if　you　please；　an　oversexed
  person：　that　is　a　vital　defect；　not　a　true　excess。　She　is　a
  perfectly　respectable；　perfectly　self…controlled　woman；　and　looks
  it；　though　her　pose　is　fashionably　frank　and　impulsive。　She
  inspires　confidence　as　a　person　who　will　do　nothing　she　does　not
  mean　to　do；　also　some　fear；　perhaps；　as　a　woman　who　will　probably
  do　everything　she　means　to　do　without　taking　more　account　of
  other　people　than　may　be　necessary　and　what　she　calls　right。　In
  short；　what　the　weaker　of　her　own　sex　sometimes　call　a　cat。
  Nothing　can　be　more　decorous　than　her　entry　and　her　reception　by
  Ramsden；　whom　she　kisses。　The　late　Mr　Whitefield　　would　be
  gratified　almost　to　impatience　by　the　long　faces　of　the　men
  （except　Tanner；　who　is　fidgety）；　the　silent　handgrasps；　the
  sympathetic　placing　of　chairs；　the　sniffing　of　the　widow；　and　the
  liquid　eye　of　the　daughter；　whose　heart；　apparently；　will　not　let
  her　control　her　tongue　to　speech。　Ramsden　and　Octavius　take　the
  two　chairs　from　the　wall；　and　place　them　for　the　two　ladies；　but
  Ann　comes　to　Tanner　and　takes　his　chair；　which　he　offers　with　a
  brusque　gesture；　subsequently　relieving　his　irritation　by　sitting
  down　on　the　corner　of　the　writing　table　with　studied　indecorum。
  Octavius　gives　Mrs　Whitefield　a　chair　next　Ann；　and　himself　takes
  the　vacant　one　which　Ramsden　has　placed　under　the　nose　of　the
  effigy　of　Mr　Herbert　Spencer。
  Mrs　Whitefield；　by　the　way；　is　a　little　woman；　whose　faded　flaxen
  hair　looks　like　straw　on　an　egg。　She　has　an　expression　of
  muddled　shrewdness；　a　squeak　of　protest　in　her　voice；　and　an　odd
  air　of　continually　elbowing　away　some　larger　person　who　is
  crushing　her　into　a　corner。　One　guesses　her　as　one　of　those　women
  who　are　conscious　of　being　treated　as　silly　and　negligible；　and
  who；　without　having　strength　enough　to　assert　themselves
  effectually；　at　any　rate　never　submit　to　their　fate。　There　is　a
  touch　of　chivalry　in　Octavius's　scrupulous　attention　to　her；
  even　whilst　his　whole　soul　is　absorbed　by　Ann。
  Ramsden　goes　solemnly　back　to　his　magisterial　seat　at　the　writing
  table；　ignoring　Tanner；　and　opens　the　proceedings。
  RAMSDEN。　I　am　sorry；　Annie；　to　force　business　on　you　at　a　sad
  time　like　the　present。　But　your　poor　dear　father's　will　has
  raised　a　very　serious　question。　You　have　read　it；　I　believe？
  ＇Ann　assents　with　a　nod　and　a　catch　of　her　breath；　too　much
  affected　to　speak＇。
  I　must　say　I　am　surprised　to　find　Mr　Tanner　named　as　joint
  guardian　and　trustee　with　myself　of　you　and　Rhoda。　＇A　pause。　They
  all　look　portentous；　but　they　have　nothing　to　say。　Ramsden；　a
  little　ruffled　by　the　lack　of　any　response；　continues＇　I　don't
  know　that　I　can　consent　to　act　under　such　conditions。　Mr　Tanner
  has；　I　understand；　some　objection　also；　but　I　do　not　profess　to
  understand　its　nature：　he　will　no　doubt　speak　for　himself。　But　we
  are　agreed　that　we　can　decide　nothing　until　we　know　your　views。　I
  am　afraid　I　shall　have　to　ask　you　to　choose　between　my　sole
  guardianship　and　that　of　Mr　Tanner；　for　I　fear　it　is　impossible
  for　us　to　undertake　a　joint　arrangement。
  ANN。　＇in　a　low　musical　voice＇　Mamma
  MRS　WHITEFIELD。　＇hastily＇　Now；　Ann；　I　do　beg　you　not　to　put　it　on
  me。　I　have　no　opinion　on　the　subject；　and　if　I　had；　it　would
  probably　not　be　attended　to。　I　am　quite　with　whatever　you　three
  think　best。
  Tanner　turns　his　head　and　looks　fixedly　at　Ramsden；　who　angrily
  refuses　to　receive　this　mute　communication。
  ANN。　＇resuming　in　the　same　gentle　voice；　ignoring　her　mother's
  bad　taste＇　Mamma　knows　that　she　is　not　strong　enough　to　bear　the
  whole　responsibility　for　me　and　Rhoda　without　some　help　and
  advice。　Rhoda　must　have　a　guardian；　and　though　I　am　older；　I　do
  not　think　any　young　unmarried　woman　should　be　left　quite　to　her
  own　guidance。　I　hope　you　agree　with　me；　Granny？
  TANNER。　＇starting＇　Granny！　Do　you　intend　to　call　your　guardians
  Granny？
  ANN。　Don't　be　foolish；　Jack。　Mr　Ramsden　has　always　been　Grandpapa
  Roebuck　to　me：　I　am　Granny's　Annie；　and　he　is　Annie's　Granny。　I
  christened　him　so　when　I　first　learned　to　speak。
  RAMSDEN。　＇sarcastically＇　I　hope　you　are　satisfied；　Mr　Tanner。　Go
  on；　Annie：　I　quite　agree　with　you。
  ANN。　Well；　if　I　am　to　have　a　guardian；　CAN　I　set　aside　anybody
  whom　my　dear　father　appointed　for　me？
  RAMSDEN。　＇biting　his　lip＇　You　approve　of　your　father's　choice；
  then？
  ANN。　It　is　not　for　me　to　approve　or　disapprove。　I　accept　it。　My
  father　loved　me　and　knew　best　what　was　good　for　me。
  RAMSDEN。　Of　course　I　understand　your　feeling；　Annie。　It　is　what　I
  should　have　expected　of　you；　and　it　does　you　credit。　But　it　does
  not　settle　the　question　so　completely　as　you　think。　Let　me　put　a
  case　to　you。　Suppose　you　were　to　discover　that　I　had　been　guilty
  of　some　disgraceful　actionthat　I　was　not　the　man　your　poor　dear
  father　took　me　for。　Would　you　still　consider　it　right　that　I
  should　be　Rhoda's　guardian？
  ANN。　I　can't　imagine　you　doing　anything　disgraceful；　Granny。
  TANNER。　＇to　Ramsden＇　You　haven't　done　anything　of　the　sort；　have
  you？
  RAMSDEN。　＇indignantly＇　No　sir。
  MRS。　WHITEFIELD。　＇placidly＇　Well；　then；　why　suppose　it？
  ANN。　You　see；　Granny；　Mamma　would　not　like　me　to　suppose　it。
  RAMSDEN。　＇much　perplexed＇　You　are　both　so　full　of　natural　and
  affectionate　feeling　in　these　family　matters　that　it　is　very　hard
  to　put　the　situation　fairly　before　you。
  TANNER。　Besides；　my　friend；　you　are　not　putting　the　situation
  fairly　before　them。
  RAMSDEN。　＇sulkily＇　Put　it　yourself；　then。
  TANNER。　I　will。　Ann：　Ramsden　thinks　I　am　not　fit　be　your
  guardian；　and　I　quite　agree　with　him。　He　considers　that　if　your
  father　had　read　my　book；　he　wouldn't　have　appointed　me。　That　book
  is　the　disgraceful　action　he　has　been　talking　about。　He　thinks
  it's　your　duty　for　Rhoda's　sake　to　ask　him　to　act　alone　and　to
  make　me　withdraw。　Say　the　word　and　I　will。
  ANN。　But　I　haven't　read　your　book；　Jack。
  TANNER。　＇diving　at　the　wast