Gynecocracy

Beatrice went into a fit of laughter, stopped, and laughed again; took out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes-laughed till she cried, and then laughed again.

"Poor boy," she said at length; "I understand now."

"Will you?" I gasped.

"On one condition," she replied.

"Any condition-any-name it!"

"Don't be in such haste. On condition that you give yourself to me body and soul for five years. Give yourself to me to be my absolute slave. So do all I tell you and nothing that I forbid you, whatever the consequences, Mademoiselle, your father, your mother, Maud, Agnes, and perhaps, most important of all, yourself, to the contrary notwithstanding. If you will promise this on your honour, perhaps-"

"Elise," I suggested.

"Oh, you are not so hard up as I thought; however, Elise and I are fast allies."

I felt like Jacob selling his birthright, but I glanced at her and thought I might have a worse fate, and the exigencies of the case did not leave room for much hesitation. She was a lovely girl. What a bust and pretty head, what bewitching hair, what grace, what a splendid form, what a splendid little foot and ankle to have on one's neck! But five years was a serious matter. "Whatever do you intend to do with me, Beatrice?"

"Never mind; I won't discuss the question. Yes or no."

"You want me to leap in the dark," I said, reproachfully.

"Do as you like. You see me, and where you are leaping to," she said with a smile of entrancing archness.

"Very well. I will. You will undo me directly?"

"Consider, Julian."

"I have considered. Yes, for five years, I promise."

"Absolutely?"

"Absolutely."

"On your honour?"

"On my honour."

"Very well. There is a kiss," stooping over me, "to ratify and seal the bargain. You are mine now," she added, standing over me, "to do what I please with, and you must do nothing without my leave-you understand," and she looked lovingly into my eyes, "and whatever it may cost you if I refuse."

Then, with a sweep of her arm, she threw the bed clothes off me, unbuckled the belt, pulled up the nightdress without any ado, and unfastened the bandage. She did not stop to look. She gave me new life with my freedom.

"Run along, Julian. I give you five minutes! No more!"

On my return, I felt much better, and was able to contemplate my position, and the price I had been obliged to pay for a freedom to 70

which the natural rights of humanity entitled me. I felt a little injured. This contract with Beatrice was indeed immoral, and I dreaded to think what Mademoiselle would have to say to it. But then I looked at Beatrice. What do girls care for immorality? What indeed! Nothing; unless it serves their purpose to care or to seem to care.

Beatrice's first order, when I returned and the door had been shut, was to tell me to take off my nightdress. She blushed as she bade me do so.

Now Mademoiselle was all very well, and Elise too. They were hardened sinners. But Beatrice, a mere girl, younger than myself. What harm I might do her! How degrading, too, to me.

I hesitated, and she reminded me of my oath.

"What about your honour, Julian?"

I still hesitated.

"Must I summon Elise to help me to enforce my rights?"

I looked at her.

"Yes, my rights," she repeated, stamping her little foot.

"Beatrice!"

"Take off that nightdress directly."

"How can you wrong me by talking about Elise?"

"Very well then, do what I tell you," she said laughing. I did not laugh, needless to say. I wanted to have another kiss, to get into bed as I was, and to wish her "good night." I was tired, and with reason.

No prospect of that, as I soon found. We looked at each other for a few minutes. She was inexorable. And before that girl, in her ball dress, which shew all her bosom, with her bare arms and smiling countenance, the personification of grace, beauty, and girlhood, I had to divest myself of my sole garment, and stand stark naked. She gazed at me from head to foot, whilst I covered my face with my hands. A woman, I suppose, would have adopted the attitude of the Venus de Medici.

"A fine girl you are, Julian, with a big thing in front of you," she said presently, blushing all over.

She then passed her hands over my shoulders and my body, along and between my legs, made me walk up and down the room, lift my legs, stand with them apart, bend over and touch my toes with my fingers, whilst she contemplated me from behind, sit down, kneel down, and go on all fours, and kiss her feet.

"How you have been punished!" she said. "Your- bottom-is black and blue. Tell me, you have had your bottom punished?"

"Indeed I have, Beatrice, severely."

"You must say it; come."

"Say what?"

"Say you have had your bottom punished-those very words; and ask me, your dear Beatrice, to pity you."

"I have had my-bottom punished, my dear Beatrice" (what a thrill these senseless words caused me and her also). "Please, pity me."

"Lie across that chair then, with your head on the carpet and your feet on the ground."