How many women marry only for a shelter or a home! How often have I been the confidante of girls who the day before, arrayed in satin, had given their hands to rich men before the altar, while their hearts were breaking with suppressed agony! And this, too, in America, this great free nation, which, notwithstanding, lets its women starve. It is but lately that a young woman said to me, “I thank Heaven, my dear doctor, that you are a woman, for now I can tell you the truth about my health. It is not my body that is sick, but my heart. These flounces and velvets cover a body that is sold--sold legally to a man who could pay my father’s debts.” Oh! I scorn men, sometimes, from the bottom of my heart. Still, this is wrong, for it is the fault of the woman--of the mother--in educating her daughter to be merely a beautiful machine fit to ornament a fine establishment; not gaining this, there is nothing left but wretchedness of mind and body. Women, there is a connection between the Fifth Avenue and the Five Points! Both the rich and the wretched are types of womanhood, both are linked together forming one great body, and both have the same part in good and evil. I can hardly leave this subject, though it may seem to have little to do with my American experience, but a word spoken from a full heart not only gives relief but may carry a message to at least one listening ear with far-reaching results. CHAPTER XII _Her former rival (and later her successor), Sister Catherine, comes from Berlin to New York to ask her aid--Marie is joined also by a second sister and a brother--She is robbed of all her savings--The end of her first year in America finds her profoundly depressed because, though successful in business, she has found no opening in her profession--Her hopes are suddenly renewed by hearing of Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell upon whom she calls. (Twenty-four years of age: 1853-1854.)_ I must now return to my new enterprise. The business paid well, and, although I was often forced to work with my sister till the dawn of morning, we were happy, for we had all that we needed, and I could write home that the offered assistance was superfluous. Here I must say that I had resolved, on leaving Berlin, never to ask for aid, in order that I might be able with perfect freedom to carry out my plans independently of my family. How this was ever to be done, I did not yet see, though I had a good opportunity to learn, from life and from the papers, what I had to expect here. But this mode of instruction, though useful to one seeking to become a philosopher, was very unsatisfactory to me. The chief thing that I learned was that I must acquire English before I could undertake anything. And this was the most difficult point to overcome. I am not a linguist by nature; all that I learn of languages must be obtained by the greatest perseverance and industry, and for this my business would not allow me time.