Dr. E. You are right. Such a life is not suited to a woman of your temperament.
Kate. But what can I do? Father and mother object to my doing anything that is real. Because I seek some aim in life, because I seek an independent position, they call me unwomanly and strange.
Dr. E. Is it indeed so? Alas that these old prejudices of a by-gone age should trammel a woman now!
Kate. I just frightened Mr. Doughlass away with my strange ideas.
Dr. E. (laughing). Poor Harold! But you cannot frighten me away, Miss Grovenor. It is just this free, untrammelled, independent woman we need in the world now.
Kate (C.). I can feel now that I have one friend who knows and sympathizes with me.
Dr. E. (going towards her). And who honors you above all women. Kate, may I add that this woman I have described is the woman I want at my fireside for my companion, friend, and my wife? There is one woman who is all I ask, one woman whom I love, but I dare not even hope for her favor. (Enter Eugene, C.) That woman, Kate, is— (Takes her hand.)
Eug. (coming down C. between them). That's right, doctor, shake hands with her, but after that keep at a discreet distance, for she hates men, you know. Wants to vote and smoke cigars, and wear bloomers and all that sort of thing, you know.
Kate (R.). Eugene! I am ashamed of you.
Eug. Ah, never mind me, sis. The doctor won't take too much stock in what I say, will you, doctor. And as for you, Kit, you will get over all those notions of yours some day and acknowledge that we men are capable of taking care of the nation, eh, doctor?