"I think I understand that. You're going to marry some time, of course."
Rose looked down: "Why, yes, I suppose so—most girls do."
"Don't think I'm impertinent, will you, but is there any—are you bound to any one?"
Rose lifted her face.
"No, I am as free as any woman."
"I'm glad of that, Rose. I was afraid you might be half-engaged to some one in the college or back in the valley. It makes it very fine and simple if you can enter your wider life here, free. You are sure to marry, and you ought to marry well."
Rose replied a little disgustedly:
"I hate to think of marrying for a home, and I hate to think of marrying as a profession. Writers accuse us of thinking of nothing else, and I get sick and tired of the whole thing. I wish I was just a plain animal or had no sex at all. Sometimes I think it is a curse to be a woman." She ended fierce and sullen.
Isabel shrank a little:
"O don't be too hard on me, Rose! I didn't mean to anger you."