“Let us confine our discussion to one, then,” he returned. “To the women who might be of your own family; that will simplify matters. And now tell me, please, how this state of things came about, this subjection of a part of your people. I cannot understand it,—these subjects being of your own flesh and blood. I should think it would breed domestic discontent, where some of the members of a family wield a power and enjoy a privilege denied to the others. Fancy my shaking a ballot over Elodia’s head!”
“O, Elodia!” I said, and was immediately conscious that my accent was traitorous to my countrywomen. I made haste to add,
“Your sister is—incomparable. She is unusual even here. I have seen none others like her.”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean that she is as responsible as a man; she is not inconsequent.”
“Are your women inconsequent?”
“They have been called so, and we think it rather adds to their attractiveness. You see they have always been relieved of responsibility, and I assure you the large majority of them have no desire to assume it,—I mean in the matter of government and politics.”
“Yes?”
I dislike an interrogative “yes,” and I made no reply. Severnius added,
“I suppose they have lost the faculty which you say they lack,—the faculty that makes people responsible,—through disuse. I have seen the same thing in countries on the other side of our globe, where races have been held as slaves for several centuries. They seem to have no ideas about personal rights, or liberties, as pertaining to themselves, and no inclination in that direction. It always struck me as being the most pathetic feature of their condition that they and everybody else accepted it as a matter of course, as they would a law of nature. In the place of strength and self-assertion there has come to them a dumb patience, or an unquestioning acquiescence like that of people born blind. Are your women happy?”