The Odd Women

lock; she and Rhoda, when alone, rarely sat for more than half an hour at table, and in this summer season they often went out together at sunset to enjoy a walk along the river

the young man. Very flatterin

ed at once that Miss Nunn had a much pleasanter aspect than a week ago; her smile was ready a

h our talk about the matrimonial disasters of those two friends of mine. Do you remember the name of Micklethwaite-a man who used t

your friends,

rty, and the lady the same. An

it likely

eer poverty has kept them apart. Pathetic, don't you think? I have a theory that when an engagement has lasted ten years, with constancy on both sides, and poverty still prevent

ovided that no marriage should take pla

. Unless you like to add that no engagement is permitted except between people who have pass

th, for the whole decennium, have earned the

r. Micklethwaite's betro

upported herself all

And more likely than not, with loathing of her

e some one to teach chil

ception; but I picture her as having spent a lifetime of uncongenial toil, longing miserably for the day when poor M

abours that he may be able to marry, and the average woman certainly h

the most difficult and arduous pursuits as if it were as simple as washing up dishes. We can't earn money in any other way, but we can teach children! A man only becomes a schoolmaster or tutor when he has gone

g he chooses it for life. A girl cannot but remember that if she marries her ca

lly different woman from what she would otherwise have been. Instead of a moping, mawkish creature, with-in most instances-a v

w very much. But what about the great number of girls who are claimed by domestic duti

se of female education is altered; when girls are trained as a matter of course to some definite pursuit; then those who really are obliged to remain at home will do their duty there in quite a different spirit. Home work will be their serious business, instead of a d

f course,' put in Evera

s either, co

approve all th

age is a thing to be avoided rather than hoped for. I would tea

nderstand you. Why d

hout sense of honour. To be bound to

ooped, and he did no

suading as many women as possible to abstain fro

from a life of dishonour; but the spirit of our work looks to the future. When all women, high and low alike, ar

s silent, and se

e,' said Miss Barfoot, with cheerful interrup

n that part

eddar and we have been looking over some phot

interest. The views were evidently made by an amateur, but in general ha

has quite overshadowed the hills in my imagination. T

und when I was a c

born at

I had an uncle at Cheddar, a farmer, and very ofte

of the market-place. Wha

t now, but hasn't made the slightest difference. Nobody pulls down or builds; no

o pleasure in that kin

here for a fortnight, and forget all ab

sgraceful marriage at this beautiful old chu

laughe

rl; and I shall give her a kiss, and pat her on the rosy cheek, and wish her joy. And the bridegroom will

foot with an affectionate smile, Everard with

o that country some

only because he feared to burden the

Miss Barfoot was not at home; she had dined, but afterwards had gone out. He did not venture to ask for Miss Nunn, and was moving dis

visit one of our girls who is ill. But I think

so counted on a

discreet intervals, from head to foot. To Everard, nothing female was alien; woman, merely as woman, interested him profoundly. And this example of her sex had excited his curiosity in no common degree. His concern with her was purely intellectual; she had no sensual attraction for him, but he longed to see further into her mind, t

it was not beautiful; yet even at the first meeting it did not repel him. Studying her features, he saw how fine was their expression. The prominent forehead, with its little unevenness that meant brains; the straight eyebrows, strongly marked, with deep vertical furrows generally drawn between them; the chestnut-brown eyes, with long lashes; the high-bridged nose, thin and delicate; the intellectual lips, a protrusion

arfoot was visiting, Everard began what was

al society, with

othing of

lect the girls whom y

care

ng. The truth is, my sympathies are strongly with you in much of what you said the other day about

r eyebrows, an

ou ser

inds and character; for the final issue of this you can't care much. But to me tha

hoda's lips, which

e gain of men. You are bitter against the average man for his low morality; but that fault, on

n. Men have themsel

ent one too. The mass of women I see about me are so contemptible that, in my haste, I use unjust language. Put yourself in the man's place. Say that there are a million or so of us very intelligent and highly educated. Well, the women of corresponding mind number perhaps a few thousands. The vast majority of men must make a marriage that is doomed to be a dismal failu

much worse, instead of

u have never heard it put honestly. I tell you the simple truth when I say that more than half these men regard their wives with active disgust. They will d

a la

t that it

eft them to starve, I should have understood it, but couldn't have approved it. There are men who might follow his example, but prefer to put up with a life of torture. Well, they do prefer it, you see. I may think that they are foolishly weak, but I can only recognize that they make a choic

h grave irony. 'By-the-bye, under the head of d

t hesi

enerally, in itself, be strong enough to outweigh matrimonial wretchedness. Many an intelligent and kind-hearted man has been driven from hi

ged. An extreme mobility of facial muscles was one

gree with you in the facts. I am convinced that most marriages are hateful, from every point of view. But there wi

success-most s

e room, and stroked his ea

etched things force us so often to sin against our best beliefs. But there are plenty of people who might marry on these ideal terms. Perfect freedom, sanc

. She glanced from one to the other, and

ur patient

s a letter from your brother Tom. Perhaps I had better re

Whilst she was reading the letter to

f a disagreeable kind. A few weeks ago-before writing, th

is he g

, of course, and she is very impatient to leave Madeira. It is to be hoped she will allow poor Tom time to get his r

rard, with feeling. 'Does h

ly. "Muriel," he says, "has been terribly upset about my accident. I can't p

rd la

must be hard driven. I have no gr

in terms before he married. It says much for his good nature

did

Tom! Why don't I marry? Well, now, one wo

ong Rhoda came back, and in the conversation that followed it

ard, with animation. 'There's a flower grows among

a answered. 'I'll bri

? That's

two of the cheese, Rhoda,'

ops there is all sham, Mr. Barfoo

for a matter-of-fact person like cousin Mary, but I h

ey shoo

he flowers?' Everard said i

e of it,' was the