“Don’t say that, dear.” Molly Parker gave a little shiver of superstitious horror.
“It is what two women out of every three say or think, if they have any spirit in them,” Mrs. Wilbur exclaimed excitedly.
“John has been in the Dakotas two weeks to-day, and I haven’t been with him because—in a few months I shall be a mother. Next week he will be here again for a little while and then off for another week in Boston and New York. And it would make no difference, if he were here all the time, like most business men, I should be put aside,—hors de combat. It will be a whole year, perhaps two, before I can be his companion again, before I can have any life of my own. I am tied to a circumstance that may be misery, that means two years gone, out of the twenty good ones of life. Not to speak of the others that may come!”
“Why did you marry, then?”
“What has that to do with it?” she said impatiently, “a woman doesn’t marry for children; a young woman doesn’t think much about it beforehand. When she does think, she supposes what the world says is true; it all arranges itself, and is a blessing, and a great happiness. The world has been dealing in sentimental lies so long that its axioms are apt to be foolish. No! there is no freedom for women: they are marked incapable from their birth and are supported by men for some obvious and necessary services. Between times they have a few indifferent joys dealt out to them.”
They had driven slowly around the great oval of sward in the green park, and crossing eastward towards the lake were passing the grey walls of the new university, which rose boldly against the steel-blue sky.
“You must sympathize with them.” Miss Parker pointed dubiously to a group of women students who were crossing the campus.
Mrs. Wilbur made no reply and they drove on silently towards the lake. “Oh! how good it is, that great lake,” Molly exclaimed as if eager to escape from some shocking ideas. “How I love it, the colour is so pure, and the little clouds out on the horizon are like little hopes of happiness.”
She jumped out of the carriage and stood looking into the lake, as if she would grasp it in her arms, her black dress swaying in the air, and her cheeks flushing with excitement. Mrs. Wilbur watched her a little enviously.
“Now let us talk about your plans,” Mrs. Wilbur began when they had turned back towards the city. “You are not marrying, with all your proper views.”