“How do you do, Olive Weston?” said this person, in a deep serious voice. Olive, who had not seen her, started in surprise and dropped her potato into the basin. “I am Mary Winkle. That’s my house over yonder.” “Oh, the Wrights’! Yes, to be sure. Come in and sit down,” said Olive hospitably, although she felt considerable surprise at her visitor’s appearance. “You don’t wear the reformed dress yet, I see,” said Mary Winkle. “No, I don’t,” acquiesced Olive. “Shall you?” “I don’t know. I have not thought about it. I suppose there is no regulation about what one wears on the prairie. There is no fashion here I suppose,” said Olive politely. “No, only the fashion of common sense.” “Do all the ladies dress that way, Miss Winkle?” inquired Olive. “Only my daughter and myself.” “I beg your pardon, I should have said Mrs. Winkle,” said Olive, in some confusion. “No, you shouldn’t,” replied her visitor. “I am not Mrs. Winkle.” “I am afraid I am very stupid. Would you tell me then how I should address you. I don’t understand.” “Address me as Mary Winkle, and my husband as John Wright.” Olive stared at her. “Are you not Mrs. Wright then?” “No, certainly not. I scorn the title. It is a symbol of subjection. I did not lose my identity when I chose to marry. I am the same Mary Winkle that I was before, and as such I desire to retain the name that I always possessed. Why should I take a new name simply because I am married?” “It is usual,” stammered Olive. “I shouldn’t like not to be called Mrs. Weston. It is so confusing, you see.” “Mere custom and prejudice. Why should not your husband take your name, instead of its always being the wife who is absorbed?” “I don’t know, but I never heard of it before.” “Ah, that is one of the first changes that must be made when women get their rights,” observed Mary Winkle. “But I don’t want the change one bit. I much prefer the old way.” “I dare say. Slaves often feel no want of freedom.” “I’m not a slave,” said Olive, flushing angrily. “You cannot be in the least acquainted with my husband.” “Oh, I know your husband very well, an excellent man in many respects, but narrow in others; however, I referred to general slavery, to custom, not to any individual slavery in your case.” “I don’t think there is any good in destroying customs, unless there is something better to be got in a new custom.” “Ah yes, no doubt it seems so to you; but there is inestimable gain in the mere protest against tyranny. Why, that’s what we are all here for, to protest against everything and live a life of freedom.” “And freedom may as well begin here and now, and in its name I will wear long dresses and be called Mrs. Weston, because I prefer the older customs,” said Olive with some archness. “Yes, you may do as you like, but you will get heartily sick of those skirts, I can tell you.” Olive remembering sundry pretty dresses she had in her trunk, was privately convinced she would not get sick of them.