"Of course, marriage generally hampers a woman," Frederica conceded. "Perhaps because most of us are tied down to the old idea that it's got to be permanent,--which might be a dreadful bore! I suppose that's a hold-over from the time that we were chattels, and men taught us to feel that marriage was permanent--for _us_! They didn't bother much with permanence for themselves! But I admit that marriage--as men have made it, entirely for their own comfort and convenience, with its drudgery of looking after children--is stunting to women. Queer, though, how they don't mind it! Look at the girls we know--Rose Marks and Mary Morton, and the rest of our class who are married--they haven't a thought above their babies and their owners--_they_ call 'em 'husbands'! Did you know Rose has resigned from the league? She says she hasn't time to attend the meetings; but I know better. It's because that perfectly piffling Marks man (how _could_ she marry him?--he has no nose, to speak of, and such a silly chin!) doesn't approve of us. I suppose you think it's better for a woman not to marry if she really wants to accomplish anything?" "Well, no; not just that. Men marry, and yet they accomplish things," Laura said. Frederica frowned. The suggestion of a fundamental difference in men and women annoyed her. "Of course, it doesn't follow that a woman stands still when she marries. If she and the man are in absolute sympathy, intellectually, she needn't vegetate. For my part, I expect to marry,--I want children. But I shall go on with my work. I consider my work of more importance than putting babies to sleep!" "Everybody can't afford to have somebody put their babies to sleep for them," Laura objected. "Fortunately I can! I shall have a trained nurse. When a child is well, a trained nurse is every bit as good as a mother. And when it is ill, she's better." "Suppose your husband doesn't think so?" "Then he won't be my husband! But I sha'n't run any such risk! I shall marry a man who absolutely agrees with me in everything." "Maybe he'd like you to agree with him." "I will, after I've pulled him up to my level," Fred said, grinning. "I suppose Mr. Howard Ferguson Maitland doesn't need any pulling up?" her cousin said, softly. Fred's face burned red. "My dear, he is not the only pebble on the beach!" "He gets home in November," Laura said. "Freddy, it's nearly one, and I'm perfectly dead with sleep!" Frederica laughed and got up; then hesitated. There was a little droop in Laura's face that she didn't like. "Lolly," she said, "you're bothered. Is it--Jack?" "Darn Jack!" Laura said. "I loathe him." "Good girl!" Fred said, with a relieved look. "You scared the stuffing out of me for a minute!" "You needn't be worried," Laura told her, dryly. "Jack has not played with my young affections. Oh, no; I'm cut out for an old maid! I'm not clever like you."