“I can see him now, as he stood up so proudly, forgetting his bashfulness in his righteous indignation,—and we all applauded him, I am glad to say. The girl was offended with us all, and left the house and sought another boarding place. In her stead came a real, true, womanly girl. Full of fun, a real comrade, ready to join our sports, to help us in every way possible, but 36 always making us feel that we were in honor bound to protect her from even a flirtatious thought. Every man in the house was her friend, some of them, I am sure, her adorers, but none ever ventured to approach her with familiarity. If she should meet any of us to-day, she would not have to blush in the presence of her husband and children at the memory of any happening of those days.
“This is the kind of a woman I want you to be, my daughter dear, a woman realizing a woman’s true place and power, as Ruskin says, ‘Power to heal, to redeem, to guide, to guard!’ Just hand me the book and let me read you a few words from his essay on War. ‘Believe me!’ he says, ‘the whole course and character of your lovers’ lives is in your hand. What you would have them be they shall be, if you not only desire but deserve to have them so; for they are but mirrors in which you will see yourselves imaged. If you are frivolous, they will be so also; if you have no understanding of the scope of their duty, they will also forget it; they will listen,—they can listen—to no other interpretation of it than that uttered from your lips. Bid them be brave;—they will be brave for you; bid them be cowards, and how noble soever they be, they will quail for you. Bid them be wise, and they will be wise for you; mock at their counsels and they will be fools for you, such, and so absolute is your rule over them.’ Isn’t 37 that a wonderful power that is in woman’s hands? And it is true, as he further says, just here: ‘Whatever of the best he can conceive, it is her part to be; whatever of the highest he can hope, it is hers to promise; all that is dark in him she must purge into purity; all that is failing in him she must strengthen into truth; from her, through all the world’s clamour, he must win his praise; in her, through all the world’s warfare, he must find his peace.’”
Helen sighed. “It is so much to ask,” she said. “Has nothing been written to the men, how they must help and protect women?”
Mr. Wayne smiled, as he kissed his little daughter and said, “Whatever has been written for men I will keep to tell my son, and I trust it will help him to reverence all womanhood.”
CHAPTER III.
As Mrs. Wayne and her daughter sat at their window they saw a carriage dash by containing a handsomely dressed woman. Shortly after a very pretty girl passed the house, talking busily with a boy of her own age.
“How funny some mothers are,” said Helen. “That was Mrs. Eversman who rode by just now, and that’s Corrinne, her daughter. Mrs. Eversman pays no attention to Corrinne except to buy her pretty clothes, and scold her for carelessness. Corrinne goes where she pleases. She has lots of beaux, and when they call she won’t let her mother come into the parlor,—she says she doesn’t want her ‘snooping’ around, and Mrs. Eversman only laughs. She seems to think it smart. And, mother, Corrinne has such lovely presents from boys and young men. And when she goes to the theatre with a young man, she insists on having a carriage and flowers and a supper afterward. She says no fellow need come around her unless he has ‘the spondulics,’ she calls money.”
“Poor child!” said Mrs. Wayne thoughtfully. “How little she understands the purpose of life!”