"But the women we are talking about, Senator Southard," she went on earnestly, "are not of that kind. They are the women who _have_ children, and want to establish their legal right to them. The mother part of this bill is the one I am talking for. It may be that a married woman _has_ no right to her own property--though I will confess that it beats me to see why; it may be that she should _not_ have the right to buy, sell, or convey property. (So far as that is concerned, a good many married _men_ ought not to have that right, having such poor business judgment that their wives should have been appointed their guardians from the start.) And I am not at all sure but I should agree with you that it is not expedient for women to carry on business--I think a good deal may be said on both sides of that question. (You needn't look at me that way, Mrs. Allaine. I _said_ expedient. Of course it should be lawful.) No, there is room for an honest difference of opinion on all these points, but when it comes to the question of a mother having an equal right with the father to the child she has borne, I cannot see how there can be two opinions there. To my mind the question of joint guardianship is the pith of this bill. It touches women at their tenderest point,--and it touches them every one." Mrs. Greuze nodded slightly to a lady across the room. This was going all right. She motioned with one eye to the Senator, who was listening with respectful attention. It had been a little more respectful, perhaps, since Mrs. Pennybacker had agreed with him as to the inexpediency of a woman's going into business. We are all human--even Senators. Mrs. Pennybacker had lost herself in her subject. These things had been seething in her soul since the night Margaret came to her, a fugitive. Now that her tongue was loosed she was glad, more than glad to give them utterance.