An optimistic friend of mine tells me not to worry myself; tells me
that it is going to come out all right in the end. Woman just now,
he contends, is passing through her college period. The school life
of strict surveillance is for ever done with. She is now the young
Freshwoman. The bothering lessons are over, the bothering
schoolmaster she has said good-bye to. She has her latchkey and is
"on her own." There are still some bothering rules about being in at
twelve o'clock, and so many attendances each term at chapel. She is
indignant. This interferes with her idea that life is to be one long
orgie of self-indulgence, of pleasure. The college period will pass-
-is passing. Woman will go out into the world, take her place there,
discover that bothers were not left behind in the old schoolhouse,
will learn that life has duties, responsibilities, will take up her
burden side by side with man, will accomplish her destiny.

[Is there anything left for her to learn?]

Meanwhile, however, she is having a good time--some people think too
good a time. She wants the best of both. She demands the joys of
independence together with freedom from all work--slavery she calls
it. The servants are not to be allowed to bother her, the children
are not to be allowed to bother her, her husband is not to be allowed
to bother her. She is to be free to lead the higher life. My dear
lady, we all want to lead the higher life. I don't want to write
these articles. I want somebody else to bother about my rates and
taxes, my children's boots, while I sit in an easy-chair and dream
about the wonderful books I am going to write, if only a stupid
public would let me. Tommy Smith of Brixton feels that he was
intended for higher things. He does not want to be wasting his time
in an office from nine to six adding up figures. His proper place in