there seemed some lesson for good.' She paused; and her aunt,
wishing to keep the subject towards higher things, asked:

'And that lesson, Stephen dear?' The blazing eyes turned to her so
that she was stirred by them as the answer came:

'It is bad women who seem to know men best, and to be able to
influence them most. They can make men come and go at will. They
can turn and twist and mould them as they choose. And THEY never
hesitate to speak their own wishes; to ask for what they want. There
are no tragedies, of the negative kind, in THEIR lives. Their
tragedies have come and gone already; and their power remains. Why
should good women leave power to such as they? Why should good
women's lives be wrecked for a convention? Why in the blind
following of some society fetish should life lose its charm, its
possibilities? Why should love eat its heart out, in vain? The time
will come when women will not be afraid to speak to men, as they
should speak, as free and equal. Surely if a woman is to be the
equal and lifelong companion of a man, the closest to him--nay, the
only one really close to him: the mother of his children--she should
be free at the very outset to show her inclination to him just as he
would to her. Don't be frightened, Auntie dear; your eyes are
paining me! . . . There! perhaps I said too much. But after all it
is only theory. Take for your comfort, Auntie dear, that I am free
an heart-whole. You need not fear for me; I can see what your dear
eyes tell me. Yes! I am very young; perhaps too young to think such
things. But I have thought of them. Thought them all over in every
way and phase I can imagine.'

She stopped suddenly; bending over, she took the old lady in her arms