[CHAPTER XXI.]
"TO BE OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE."
Once more, guest night at the college. A good many guest nights had passed since the first. The thoughtful and the curious no longer came; they were not missed by Hilarie and her friends at the place about which there had been at first so much discussion and derision. A college which taught nothing, and was only a place of culture, and consolation, and rest, and good breeding—a mere establishment for reminding women perpetually of their very highest functions and duties—was sure to excite derision. Meanwhile, it went on doing its own work, and nobody derided any longer. This is the way of the world, and it is like one of the three—nay, four, things which the Proverbial philosopher found too wonderful for him—things which he knew not. A man proposes to found, or establish, or create, something new—something which will, perhaps, cause changes small or great in the current order and the current talk. It is immediately fastened upon and he is held up to derision. Nothing is so truly ridiculous as a thing which is new; besides, it makes admirable "copy." If the man kicks out in return, he is jumped upon again. The world is then called upon to observe how completely the creature is squelched, how he lies flat and lifeless on the arid sand. Presently the world observes that the man, so far from being flat and lifeless, is going on just as if there had been no jumping at all; he bears no apparent mark of bruises, no bones are broken, there are no patches of diachylum on his head; he just proceeds quietly with his plan. Then comes another but a fainter sound of derision, because, when people do get hold of a good thing to worry, they like to keep at it. But the dead man, twice killed, goes on, without paying any attention. Then silence falls. It is unwise to let the world understand that the man you have just killed is going about alive and quite unhurt, and that the theory you have covered with contempt is flourishing like a vigorous vine, already bearing blossoms and rich with promise of purple clusters.
"Yes," said Hilarie, "my simple college is going on; we are quite full. We teach nothing except the true functions of woman, and her place in the human comedy. We admit all those who have to work. Here they learn that work for money and a livelihood is a kind of accident for woman. For man it is necessary; his nature makes him crave for activity. For woman it is an accident, which belongs to our imperfect social system. She ought not to work for pay. And in the case of many women, perhaps most, it degrades and lowers them, because it turns them from what should be the main object of their lives. In this place we warn, and here we daily strive to hold before them the necessity of keeping before themselves a standard. They must never lose sight of the fact that woman is the priestess of civilization. We do our best to prevent our girls from being degraded by the unhappy accident of having to work for wages. All women's work should be work for love."
"But it is said that you pauperize them by taking them in for nothing."
Hilarie laughed. "If the gift is a gift of love, repaid by love, what harm? But there is a rule about payment, and nobody knows except myself who pays and who does not. They come when they like; they go when they like. It is a college in the old sense of the word, not the new—a place of residence."
She left her guests and spoke to Molly. "I have asked my cousin Humphrey to come," she said. "Will you give him an answer to-night?"
"I thought I would wait to see how he would receive——"
"Yes; you told me. It is a most wonderful story, Molly. But I do not believe that it will be allowed to go beyond those who know it at present. I do not believe that he will ever be told this story at all. If he were, I know very well how he would behave. There is another reason, Molly dear; you will understand presently, when I show you a letter. Take him into the library, when the people are going away. Do not answer him until I come to you. I promise you, Molly, that after I have shown you a certain paper, you will thank God that your doubts and your temptations were all removed."