Ernest had been listening with great amusement to Dorothy’s views. He had no idea that she took such matters into her shrewd consideration.
“I heard a girl say the other day that, on the whole, most women preferred to become old maids,” he said.
“Then she told fibs; they don’t. It isn’t natural that they should—that is, if they care for anybody. Just think, there are more than ten hundred thousand of our charming sisterhood in these islands, and more women being born every day! Ten hundred thousand restless, unoccupied, disgusted, loveless women! It is simply awful to think of. I wonder they don’t breed a revolution. If they were all beautiful, they would.”
He laughed again.
“Do you know what remedy Mazooku would apply to this state of affairs?”
“No.”
“The instant adoption of polygamy. There are no unmarried women among the Natal Zulus, and as a class they are extremely happy.”
Dorothy shook her head.
“It wouldn’t do here; it would be too expensive.”
“I say, Doll, you spoke just now of our ‘charming sisterhood’; you are rather young to consider yourself an old maid. Do you want to become one?”