“As I waited in the station for my train the day I came here,” began Mrs. Lane in the conversational tone of one prepared for a long talk, “a lady sat near me, also waiting, with a bag in her hand. I had a bag in my hand, but there was nothing unusual in mine; she told me she was going to Dunellen to take care of ladies’ finger-nails. She had a good business in Dunellen and the suburbs in summer, when the people were in their country homes; there were a few ladies who expected her that day.” “I wouldn’t like to do that,” declared Jean, “although I would do almost anything to pay off our mortgage.” “In Buffalo is a woman who runs a street-cleaning bureau; in Kansas City a woman is at the head of a fire department.” “Worse and worse,” laughed Jean. “A Louisville lady makes shopping trips to Paris.” “Splendid,” exclaimed Jean, who still dreamed of outings. “A lady in New York makes flat-furnishing a business.” “That is making a home for other people,” said Jean. “But her own at the same time,” answered Judith. “New Hampshire has a woman president of a street railway company; and in Chicago is a woman who embalms—” “Dead people,” interrupted Jean; “oh, dear me!” “The world is learning the resources of the nineteenth century woman. A Swiss woman has invented a watch for the blind. The hours on the dial are indicated by pegs, which sink in, one every hour.” “That is worth doing,” observed Judith; “I want to do real work. I know I do not mean my work to end with myself.” “Lady Somebody has classified her husband’s books, with a catalogue—his papers fill five rooms; think of the work before her.” “But that is not for herself,” demurred Judith. “I believe Judith would like to be famous,” said Jean with a laugh. “Bensalem is such a little spot to her.” “A lady is about to translate King Oscar of Sweden’s works into English; would you like to do that, Judith?” asked Mrs. Lane, who felt that she had been a friend of Judith MacKenzie’s ever since Jean Draper had known her and written of their girlhood together. “Not exactly that,” said Judith. “The first woman rabbi in the world is in California. She has been trained in a Hebrew College; Rabbi Moses, the celebrated Jewish divine in Chicago, urges her to take a congregation.” “Then how can the men give thanks in their prayers that they are not born women?” asked Judith quickly. “Do the Jews do that?” inquired Jean. “Yes. But I don’t believe old Moses did, or this Rabbi Moses,” said Judith. “A lady has received the degree of electrical engineer,” continued Mrs. Lane, who appeared to both her listeners to be a Cyclopedia of Information Concerning Women. “Judith doesn’t mean such things,” explained Jean; “I don’t believe she wants David to teach her to be a blacksmith. But there is a woman in Dunellen who has a sick husband, and she is doing his work in the butcher’s shop.”