ng more wonderful. I don't see anything good or
glorious in the fact that half the torrent of humanity you see down
there pouring through the street from those factories and offices is
made up of women. They are wage-earners--so much the worse. They are
forcing the scale of wages for men lower and lower. They are paying for
it in weakened bodies and sickly, hopeless children. We should not shout
for joy; we should cry. God never meant for woman to be a wage-earner!"

A sob caught her voice and she paused.

The artist watched her emotion with keen interest.

"Neither do I believe that God means to force woman at last to do the
tasks of man. But she's doing them, dear--and it must be so until a
brighter day dawns for humanity. The new world that opens before us
will never abolish marriage, but it has opened our eyes to know what it
means. You refuse to open yours. You refuse to see this new world about
you. I've begged you to join one of my clubs. You refuse. I beg you to
meet and know such men of genius as Gordon----"

"As an artist's model!"

"It's the only way on earth you can meet him. You stick to your narrow,
hide-bound conventional life and dream of the Knight who will suddenly
appear some day out of the mists and clouds. You dream of the Fate God
has prepared for you in His mysterious Providence. It's funny how that
idea persists even today in novels. As a matter of fact we know that the
old-fashioned girl met her Fate because her shrewd mother planned the
meeting--planned it with cunning and stratagem. You're alone in a great
modern city, with all the conditions of the life of the old regime
reversed or blotted out. Your mother is not here. And if she were, her
schemes to bring about the mysterious meeting of the Fates would be
impossible. You outgrew the limits of your village life. Your highly
trained mind landed you in New York. You've fought your way to a
competent living in five years and kept yourself clean and unspotted
from the world. Granted. But how many men have you met who are your
equals in culture and character?"

Jane paused and held Mary's gaze with steady persistence.

"How many--honest?"

"None as yet," she confessed.

"But you live in the one fond, imperishable hope! It's the only
thing that keeps you alive and going--this idea of your Fate. It's an
obsession--this mysterious Knight somewhere in the future riding to meet
you----"

"I'll find him, never fear," the girl laughed.

"O