CHAPTER II.—ON A GREAT HOPE.
I THINK you remarked that you had great hope of Woman,” said Harold, the next day. The boat had drifted once again into the centre of the same scene, and there seemed to be a likelihood of at least two of the boat’s company drifting back to the topic of the previous afternoon.
“Yes, you certainly admitted that you had great hope of Woman.”
“And so I have. Woman felt, long ago; she is beginning to feel again.”
“You don’t think that feeling is being educated out of her? I certainly have occasional suspicions that this process is going on. Why, just think of the Stafford girl. She can tell you at a moment’s notice the exact difference between an atheist, an infidel, an agnostic, a freethinker, and the Honest Doubter.”
“She has been reading modern fiction—that’s all. No, I don’t think that what is called education makes much difference to a woman. After all, what does this thing called education mean? It simply means that a girl can read all the objectionable passages of the ancient poets without the need of a translation. I have hope of Woman because she is frequently so intensely feminine.”
“Maybe you never heard tell of how the Widdy MacDermott’s cabin came to be a ruin,” said the Third.
“Feeling and femininity will, shall I say, transform woman into our ideal?” said Harold.