"Then if that is the law it is abominable!" exclaimed Grace.
"I think it is terrible," said Margaret; "even if he was cruel, if he struck me, if he were in other ways infamous, I might leave him; I should be free; but even then it is doubtful if I might have my child."
"And we boast of English justice!" exclaimed Grace.
"It is cruelly unjust," said Margaret. "Oh darling, how often we have laughed at women wanting their 'rights,' and made fun of those who made a stir about having votes: but this one thing, this one frightful injustice, makes me feel that women should, in some way, be able to make their great needs felt; surely a mother should have equal rights with the father, and have something to say in a child's destiny!"
"And we have to submit, and I, I have brought you into this position!" and Grace burst into tears.
Jean hurried into the room.
"Bairns, my dear bairns, whist, for any sake. You'll make me feel I did wrong in leaving the two of you together."
"We were talking of an unjust law," said Margaret; "we were talking of my child, Jean, and that if I ever left my husband, he would have it probably, and not me."
"It's a man made that law," said Jean, "and it's a real cruel one and not Christian. I never had any opinion of men, they're just poor creatures all round, poor selfish creatures—except, maybe, the police," she added, with a sense of ingratitude for the way in which a policeman had helped her in her hour of need.
"Tell me of your baby, Margaret," said Grace, turning with real interest to her sister; "it is more than a year old now, is it not?"