Young Wallace made answer:
“Woman’s awakening to the consciousness that it is needful will be the cornerstone upon which her freedom will be built, but she will need the help and support of outward influence. So long as man is the slave of ‘the almighty dollar,’ so long will woman be the slave of man, because in the present state of society she is dependent on man for her maintenance. The economic battle goes hand in hand with that for woman’s rights. Man needs woman’s aid in this battle for the rights of humanity, and the blow that shatters the shackles of wage-slavery will also break the chains that hold her sex in bondage. When the race becomes free her battle will have been won, and she can begin to build up a new and glorious race.”
Wallace’s eyes glowed as the enthusiasm wherewith he had spoken sent the blood bounding through his veins. Imelda saw that Margaret’s eyes rested with something more than mere admiration on his darkly handsome face. All in an instant she understood—“Margaret’s love.” It shone in the depths of her deep blue eyes, it trembled upon the sweet, dewy lips, it burned in the glow of her cheek.
Imelda’s eyes reverted again to the face of the young man with renewed interest; but her searching glance could detect nothing to his discredit. It was a frank, open, manly countenance wherein she gazed, a face women would involuntarily trust and little children love.
“At the same time,” now spoke Miss Wood, “you will permit us to begin to exercise just a little of that freedom now. We will begin at home with our individual selves and proclaim that no man shall ever say to us, ‘Thou shalt,’ or ‘Thou shalt not.’ How is it Miss Ellwood and Miss Leland?”
The question was put rather laughingly and banteringly, as she turned first to one, then the other of the two girls. Imelda had no answer but a heightened color, but Margaret held out her hand which Miss Wood readily clasped.
“I am with you,” she said. “I intend to win my lover’s love and hold it too, but I will never buy it at the price of my freedom.”
“Bravo!” came simultaneously from the lips of the gentlemen, while the hand of the elder gently patted her shoulder.
“That is what I call making remarkably free with my daughter. She belongs to me and I object,” and the pleasant face of Mrs. Leland became visible in close proximity to her daughter and Mr. Roland. Margaret’s laugh rang out in sweetest music.
“Now! now! Mamma, you know better than that. If I am your daughter, I am not your property. Don’t you know if I find pleasure in feeling Mr. Roland’s hand on my shoulder—why—you have nothing to say.” This last was said in so saucy a manner that it caused a general laugh, which having subsided, she with sudden recollection added: