“But what does it help? A little bitterness, a little longing when we are young, a little futile searching for work, a little passionate striving for room for the exercise of our powers,--and then we go with the drove. A woman must march with her regiment. In the end she must be trodden down or go with it; and if she is wise she goes.
“I see in your great eyes what you are thinking,” she said, glancing at him; “I always know what the person I am talking to is thinking of. How is this woman who makes such a fuss worse off than I? I will show you by a very little example. We stand here at this gate this morning, both poor, both young, both friendless; there is not much to choose between us. Let us turn away just as we are, to make our way in life. This evening you will come to a farmer’s house. The farmer, albeit you come alone on foot, will give you a pipe of tobacco and a cup of coffee and a bed. If he has no dam to build and no child to teach, tomorrow you can go on your way, with a friendly greeting of the hand. I, if I come to the same place tonight, will have strange questions asked me, strange glances cast on me. The Boer-wife will shake her head and give me food to eat with the Kaffers, and a right to sleep with the dogs. That would be the first step in our progress--a very little one, but every step to the end would repeat it. We were equals once when we lay new-born babes on our nurses’ knees. We will be equals again when they tie up our jaws for the last sleep!”
Waldo looked in wonder at the little quivering face; it was a glimpse into a world of passion and feeling wholly new to him.
“Mark you,” she said, “we have always this advantage over you--we can at any time step into ease and competence, where you must labour patiently for it. A little weeping, a little wheedling, a little self-degradation, a little careful use of our advantages, and then some man will say: “Come, be my wife!” With good looks and youth marriage is easy to attain. There are men enough; but a woman who has sold herself, even for a ring and a new name, need hold her skirt aside for no creature in the street. They both earn their bread in one way. Marriage for love is the beautifulest external symbol of the union of souls; marriage without it is the uncleanliest traffic that defiles the world.” She ran her little finger savagely along the topmost bar, shaking off the dozen little dewdrops that still hung there. “And they tell us we have men’s chivalrous attention!” she cried. “When we ask to be doctors, lawyers, law-makers, anything but ill-paid drudges, they say--No; but you have men’s chivalrous attention; now think of that and be satisfied! What would you do without it?”