"May I come in?" said she, framing herself in the open window, with a

background of green sward and blue sky. "I feel like an invader deep in

an enemy's country."

"It is a very welcome invasion, ma'am," said he, clearing his throat and

pulling at his high collar. "Try this garden chair. What is there that

I can do for you? Shall I ring and let Mrs. Denver know that you are

here?"

"Pray do not trouble, Admiral. I only looked in with reference to our

little chat this morning. I wish that you would give us your powerful

support at our coming meeting for the improvement of the condition of

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woman."

"No, ma'am, I can't do that." He pursed up his lips and shook his

grizzled head.

"And why not?"

"Against my principles, ma'am."

"But why?"

"Because woman has her duties and man has his. I may be old-fashioned,

but that is my view. Why, what is the world coming to? I was saying to

Dr. Walker only last night that we shall have a woman wanting to command

the Channel Fleet next."

"That is one of the few professions which cannot be improved," said Mrs.

Westmacott, with her sweetest smile. "Poor woman must still look to man

for protection."

"I don't like these new-fangled ideas, ma'am. I tell you honestly that

I don't. I like discipline, and I think every one is the better for

it. Women have got a great deal which they had not in the days of our

fathers. They have universities all for themselves, I am told, and there

are women doctors, I hear. Surely they should rest contented. What more

can they want?"

"You are a sailor, and sailors are always chivalrous. If you could see

how things really are, you would change your opinion. What are the poor

things to do? There are so many of them and so few things to which they

can turn their hands. Governesses? But there are hardly any situations.

Music and drawing? There is not one in fifty who has any special talent

in that direction. Medicine? It is still surrounded with difficulties

for women, and it takes many years and a small fortune to qualify.

Nursing? It is hard work ill paid, and none but the strongest can stand

it. What would you have them do then, Admiral? Sit down and starve?"

"Tut, tut! It is not so bad as that."

"The pressure is terrible. Advertise for a lady companion at ten

shillings a week, which is less than a cook's wage, and see how many

answers you get. There is no hope, no outlook, for these struggling

thousands. Life is a dull, sordid struggle, leading down to a cheerless

old age. Yet when we try to bring some little ray of hope, some

chance, however distant, of something better, we are told by chivalrous

gentlemen that it is against their principles to help."




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