"But, Cornelia, I thought it was the women who wanted children!" "So we do. We want them because life demands them through us; for are we not the mothers of the race? But that is not the men’s reason. It isn’t the race that is calling through them for immortality. Heavens no! It’s their boundless male egotism. And since they know that they can’t live forever in their own selfish little bodies, they hope to get a new lease of life in the bodies of their sons. That is why they have built up an institution in which they can keep their women wedlocked and can make sure that their children are their own." "But perhaps marriage is necessary for the children, Cornelia. They are the better off for it, at least when they are very young." "Are you so sure? Remember, loveless marriages seldom result in healthy offspring. Look at Percival Houghton’s two children. One is a girl with hip disease, the other is a feeble-minded, flabby anæmic boy. Yet the parents are both physically sound. Do you think _I_ would have had such children?" Her vehemence was over-awing, almost over-bearing. "I’m not sure I can judge from one case, Cornelia," said Janet, her firm voice and clear distinct utterance betraying a will of her own. "But I’m sure that people who marry and find that they are mistaken in each other, ought to be able to rectify the mistake. It’s horrible to think that they can’t." "Ah! Now you’ve come to it. If people find that they are mistaken in their butchers or grocers, they experiment until they find the right one. They won’t go on eating bad steaks forever because luck or inexperience landed them in a poor shop at the first try. But do they take as much trouble to get the right husband or wife as they do to get the right mutton chop? They don’t. Whatever partner luck or inexperience hands them at the altar, they put up with for the rest of their lives." "I wonder why we don’t experiment in marriage as in all other matters?" asked Janet thoughtfully. "My dear, it’s been proposed often enough. By men, of course. You are too young to remember the furor that followed when George Meredith proposed trial marriages. It’s an easy thing for the men to propose, since it’s the women who must risk the beginning. The question is, who is to begin? The plain women daren’t, because the risk is too great; and the fascinating women needn’t, because they get what they want anyway, within the law or beyond it. Now if ever girls like you, Araminta, on whom the eye rests with delight, began to experiment—" "What then?" "Oh, I’ve no right to urge my views on individuals. Besides, you are far too young and inexperienced, my dear, to be one of the first. Though I’m sure nothing would suit men like Claude Fontaine better." "There, Cornelia, you’re making innuendos about Mr. Fontaine again," said Janet. "It isn’t fair. If you mean to take me into your confidence at all, you might do it all the way through."