Colonel Keith’s tone was different.  He was argumentative where his young cousin was sarcastic.  He was reading some of the books over which Rachel had strained her capacities without finding any one with whom to discuss them, since all her friends regarded them as poisonous; and even Ermine Williams, without being shaken in her steadfast trust, was so haunted and distressed in her lonely and unvaried life by the echo of these shocks to the faith of others, that absolutely as a medical precaution she abstained from dwelling on them.  On the other hand Colin Keith liked to talk and argue out his impressions, and found in Rachel the only person with whom the subject could be safely broached, and thus she for the first time heard the subjects fairly handled.  Hitherto she had never thought that justice was done to the argument except by a portion of the press, that drew conclusions which terrified while they allured her, whereas she appreciated the candour that weighed each argument, distinguishing principle from prejudice, and religious faith from conventional construction, and in this measurement of minds she felt the strength, and acuteness of powers superior to her own.  He was not one of the men who prefer unintellectual women.  Perhaps clever men, of a profession not necessarily requiring constant brain work, are not so much inclined to rest the mind with feminine empty chatter, as are those whose intellect is more on the strain.  At any rate, though Colonel Keith was attentive and courteous to every one, and always treated Lady Temple as a prime minister might treat a queen, his tendency to conversation with Rachel was becoming marked, and she grew increasingly prone to consult him.  The interest of this new intercourse quite took out the sting of disappointment, when again Curatocult came back, “declined with thanks.”  Nay, before making a third attempt she hazarded a question on his opinion of female authorship, and much to her gratification, and somewhat to her surprise, heard that he thought it often highly useful and valuable.

“That is great candour.  Men generally grudge whatever they think their own privilege.”

“Many things can often be felt and expressed by an able woman better than by a man, and there is no reason that the utterance of anything worthy to be said should be denied, provided it is worthy to be said.”

“Ah! there comes the hit.  I wondered if you would get through without it.”

“It was not meant as a hit.  Men are as apt to publish what is not worth saying as women can be, and some women are so conscientious as only to put forth what is of weight and value.”

“And you are above wanting to silence them by palaver about unfeminine publicity?”

“There is no need of publicity.  Much of the best and most wide-spread writing emanates from the most quiet, unsuspected quarters.”

“That is the benefit of an anonymous press.”

“Yes.  The withholding of the name prevents well-mannered people from treating a woman as an authoress, if she does not proclaim herself one; and the difference is great between being known to write, and setting up for an authoress.”