It puzzled them for a time.

Because a girl's features are classical and her colouring attractive, surely that has nothing to do with the value of her political views?
Until one of them discovered by chance that it has.
"Well, what does Beauty think about it ?" this one had asked, laughing.
She had arrived at the end of a discussion just as Joan was leaving the room.

And then she gave a long low whistle, feeling that she had stumbled upon the explanation.

Beauty, that mysterious force that from the date of creation has ruled the world, what does It think?
Dumb, passive, as a rule, exercising its influence unconsciously.

But if it should become intelligent, active! A Philosopher has dreamed of the vast influence that could be exercised by a dozen sincere men acting in unity.
Suppose a dozen of the most beautiful women in the world could form themselves into a league! Joan found them late in the evening still discussing it.
Her mother died suddenly during her last term, and Joan hurried back to attend the funeral.