nhole.
I know several women who manage to live without men to open doors for
them, and I think I could bear to let a man pass before me now and then,
or wear his hat in an office where I happened to be; and I could get my
own ice at a dance, I think, possibly with even less fuss and scramble
than I've sometimes observed in the young men who have done it for me.
But you know you would never let us do things for ourselves, no matter
what legal equality might be declared, even when we get representation
for our taxation. You will never be able to deny yourselves giving
us our 'privilege.' I hate being waited on. I'd rather do things for
myself."

She was so earnest in her satire, so full of scorn and so serious in
her meaning, and there was such a contrast between what she said and her
person; she looked so preeminently the pretty marquise, all silks and
softness, the little exquisite, so essentially to be waited on and
helped, to have cloaks thrown over the dampness for her to tread upon,
to be run about for--he could see half a dozen youths rushing about
for her ices, for her carriage, for her chaperone, for her wrap, at
dances--that to save his life he could not repress a chuckle. He managed
to make it inaudible, however; and it was as well that he did.

"I understand your love of newspaper work," she went on, less
vehemently, but not less earnestly. "I have always wanted to do it
myself, wanted to immensely. I can't think of any more fascinating way
of earning one's living. And I know I could do it. Why don't you make
the 'Herald' a daily?"

To hear her speak of "earning one's living" was too much for him.
She gave the impression of riches, not only for the fine texture and
fashioning of her garments, but one felt that luxuries had wrapped
her from her birth. He had not had much time to wonder what she did in
Plattville; it had occurred to him that it was a little odd that she
could plan to spend any extent of time there, even if she had liked
Minnie Briscoe at school. He felt that she must have been sheltered and
petted and waited on all her life; one could not help yearning to wait
on her.

He answered inarticulately, "Oh, some day," in reply to her question,
and then burst into outright laughter.

"I might have known you wouldn't take me seriously," she said with no
indignation, only a sad wistfulness. "I am well used to it. I think it
is because I am not tall; people take big girls with more gravity. Big
peo