"I rather suppose so too," laughed Gretchen.
"There is a Nemesis in it," said Ernestine, as she sat making a pen. "Here am I, who have hardly ever listened to a sermon in my life, obliged to copy sermons for my bread. Well," she added gravely, "it is just."
And again her pen flew quickly over the paper. After some time she sat up, with a long breath. "I have learnt to deny myself and to pray, but I have yet to learn the hardest task of all,--patience."
"It must be a terrible drudgery to such a mind as yours merely to write down the thoughts of another," said Gretchen.
"If there only were thoughts here, but these are nothing but empty words. And I must not even correct them,--it is mental death!" She wrote on for awhile, then suddenly raised her head and broke out, "At least they might let women have something to do with religion, if they deny our right to meddle with science or politics. Religion is so much a matter of feeling, and feeling is a woman's prerogative. Humility, self-sacrifice, and submission are native to woman, and a woman's lips could discourse far more eloquently than a man's of these Christian qualities. Why should a woman not be found worthy to declare the word of God? Why?" She suppressed a sigh. "Ah, the old indignation is getting possession of me! I will not yield to it,--such independence of thought does not become a mere copyist." She tried to go on with her writing, but her cheeks were flushed, and the tears stood in her eyes. "Oh, Gretchen, I shall never live it down,--this pity for our poor sex. It will always be the same,--any allusion to our wrongs cuts me to the very quick."
Gretchen laid her hand upon her shoulder. "Dear Ernestine, we will speak of this some other time. Now remember that you have promised that your copy shall be ready by four o'clock."
"You are right I will finish it instantly," said Ernestine, dipping the pen in the ink. "No, I cannot let such nonsense stand as it is!" she exclaimed after a pause. "The man is going to have the sermons printed,--he will thank me for correcting the worst faults."
"Ernestine, take care,--he may be offended," said Gretchen.
"Oh, no, surely I may change a couple of words. Whatever goes through my hands shall be as free from errors as possible."
Gretchen shook her head.