“Remove but this monstrous shadow which continually yawns over woman’s life, and she promises to become the true glory of man, and to cheer and lighten his pathway with a radiance more dazzling than his wildest dreams ever conceived of.” As the speaker proceeded I became conscious that I was surrounded by a growing tumult of weeping. The deep conviction of having cruelly oppressed and wronged and ravaged woman for unnumbered ages, which I had seen on the strained and anxious faces of the men when I first entered the hall, had given way to sobs and groans. The speaker paused for a moment with emotion. Suddenly as if it had been traced by a hand on the wall, the conviction burst upon that weeping multitude that immeasurably above all ties of consanguinity, and even higher than any more sentimental tie, clear and serene stood the great, practical truth that all men and women were brothers and sisters, the children of one common Father, and as such were forever entitled to each other’s deepest love and compassion. Filled with this sublime thought, they gazed at each other with the glistening, eager eyes that welcome a long absent brother or sister. The speaker seemed inspired with this thought. With a radiant smile, she continued: “You weep at the contemplation of the bitter woes of the past. Let me, I beseech you, lift up your eyes to the near glories of a possible future, when the new man and woman, neither oppressing nor oppressed, shall pass down the centuries hand in hand ministering to each other from the sweet fountains of eternal affection. Who shall say that in that union a power may not be evolved from which Death himself shall draw back dismayed?” As the speaker concluded, she did not perceive that a dainty little girl had entered the building unnoticed, and come upon the stage. In one hand she bore a white rose, and in the other a paper to which she sought to draw the speaker’s attention by tugging at her garments. There was a murmur among the audience that it was the news of the decision of the ballots, the guarantee on which the fate of not only a single race but all races hung. Miss Alliston caught the deep significance of the murmur. She took the paper in her trembling hands, and pressing it against her tumultuous bosom, advanced to the front of the platform. Instantly every man in the great building arose, and with eyes riveted intently on the paper, waited as if for a sentence of doom or a joyful pardon.