"Steve, man’s idea is still that to the victor belong the spoils. We are the spoils of the chase, dear. His conventions were made to contain us in a sort of game-preserve before capture; cage us after we are made prisoner. His laws fetter us; a misstep ruins us; irregularities never impair him. That is the ancient view; that, still, is the secret view of man; that is his inborn conviction regarding us and himself.... And, very slowly, we are beginning his education."
"I didn’t know you felt that way," said Stephanie.
"I do.... But if I were in love"—she laughed gaily—"I’d be inclined to take my chances with this monster I have painted for you."
"What else is there, dear? Harry’s piffle means nothing except that a plucky girl has begun his education, and it hurts. I don’t know what else there is to take the place of marriage. It’s the parties to the contract who don’t understand its essence."
"What would you suggest?" inquired Stephanie curiously.
"Education. A girl should be brought up to master some trade or profession. She should support herself by it. She should never go to her husband empty-handed and unable to support herself.
"If, then, under the mutual marriage contract, her earning capacity be necessarily checked by child-birth, and by the later and natural demands of progeny, these alone should temporarily but only in part interrupt her in the exercise of her trade or profession. And he should pay for them.
"But she should have a life work to do; and so should he, no matter how ample their means. Domestic drudgery must be done by others hired for the purpose, or else by themselves, sharing alike. In no other way that I see can marriage remain endurable."
The girl looked up in a startled way, as though hearing this information for the first time. Helen gazed gravely into the troubled grey eyes:
"I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about it."
"Y-yes.... I’ve got to do a—a lot of thinking some day, I suppose." She gazed absently into space for a few moments; then again the faintest of smiles curved her lips and she bent her head and remained very still, deep in reflection.
... "Did you wish to speak to Marie Cliff?" asked Helen, breaking the prolonged silence.
"I think she just went into the court-yard."