Irene sighed, and, letting her eyes fall to the floor, sat lost in thought for some moments. The suggestions of her friend were not producing agreeable states of mind. "They reject the doctrine of an equality in the sexes?" said Mrs. Emerson. "Of course. All men do that," replied Mrs. Talbot. "Your husband among the rest?" "Talbot? Oh, he's well enough in his way!" The lady spoke lightly, tossing her head in a manner that involved both indifference and contempt. "I never take him into account when discussing these matters. That point was settled between us long and long ago. We jog on without trouble. Talbot thinks as I do about the women--or pretends that he does, which is all the same." "A rare exception to the general run of husbands," said Irene, thinking at the same time how immeasurably superior Mr. Emerson was to this weakling, and despising him in her heart for submitting to be ruled by a woman. Thus nature and true perception spoke in her, even while she was seeking to blind herself by false reasonings. "Yes, he's a rare exception; and it's well for us both that it is so. If he were like your husband, for instance, one of us would have been before the legislature for a divorce within twelve months of our marriage night." "Like my husband! What do you mean?" Mrs. Emerson drew herself up, with half real and half affected surprise. "Oh, he's one of your men who have positive qualities about them--strong in intellect and will." Irene felt pleased with the compliment bestowed upon her husband. "But wrong in his ideas of woman." "How do you know?" asked Irene. "How do I know? As I know all men with whom I come in contact. I probe them." "And you have probed my husband?" "Undoubtedly." "And do not regard him as sound on this subject?" "No sounder than other men of his class. He regards woman as man's inferior." "I think you state the case too strongly," said Mrs. Emerson, a red spot burning on her cheek. "He thinks them mentally different." "Of course he does." "But not different as to superiority and inferiority," replied Irene. "Mere hair-splitting, my child. If they are mentally different, one must be more highly organized than the other, and of course, superior. Mr. Emerson thinks a man's rational powers stronger than a woman's, and that, therefore, he must direct in affairs generally, and she follow his lead. I know; I've talked with and drawn him out on this subject." Mrs. Emerson sighed again faintly, while her eyes dropped from the face of her visitor and sunk to the floor. A shadow was falling on her spirit--a weight coming down with a gradually increasing pressure upon her heart. She remembered the night of her return from Ivy Cliff and the language then used by her husband on this very subject, which was mainly in agreement with the range of opinions attributed to him by Mrs. Talbot. "Marriage, to a spirited woman," she remarked, in a pensive undertone, "is a doubtful experiment."