"We of the West are fortunate in living away from the artificiality of the East. There is some freedom here; the star of empire hovers here; the strength of the nation lies in the rugged but honest people of the great West, who gave Lincoln to the nation and the nation to Liberty." There was a glitter of excitement in the woman's eyes, but she spoke in low monotonous tones. Evelyn thought for a moment that this was conscious hyperbole, but Miss Morris's aspect of unrelenting severity undeceived her. Something seemed to be expected of her, and Evelyn said:
"That is all very true, but, you know, they say down East that we are far too thoroughly persuaded of our greatness and brag too much."
"But," continued Miss Morris, "they are coming to us more and more for statesmen. Look at literature! See what our western writers are doing! The most vital books we are now producing are written west of the Alleghanies!"
"You know Miss Morris is a writer," interrupted Mrs. Atherton. "We should say Doctor Morris," she continued, with a rising inflection on the title,—"not an M.D. Miss Morris is a doctor of philosophy."
"Oh," said Evelyn. "What college, Doctor Morris?"
"The University of North Dakota," with emphasis on the university. "I had intended going to Heidelberg, but felt that we loyal Americans should patronize home institutions. The choruses of Euripides may ring as grandly on our Western plains as in Athens itself," she added with finality. She enunciated with great care and seemed terribly in earnest to Evelyn, who felt an uncontrollable desire to laugh. But there was, she now imagined, something back of all this, and she waited patiently for its unfolding. The dénouement was, she hoped, near at hand, for Miss Morris moved her eyeglasses higher up on her nose and appeared even more formidable than before.
"I have heard that great emphasis is laid at Smith on social and political economy. You must be very anxious to make practical use of your knowledge," continued Miss Morris.
Evelyn recalled guiltily her cuts in these studies.
"Carlyle or somebody"—she was afraid to quote before a doctor of philosophy, and thought it wise to give a vague citation—"calls political economy the dismal science, and I'm afraid I have looked at it a little bit that way myself." She smiled hopefully, but Miss Morris did not relax her severity.
"Civic responsibility rests on women as strongly as on men; even more so," declared Miss Morris.