People Like That | Page 5

care I tried to shield her from the severity of Aunt
Matilda's system in rearing a child. I had been reared by it.
I owe much to Aunt Matilda. She sent me to good schools, to a good
college; took me with her on most of her trips abroad, and at twenty
presented me to society, but she never knew me, never in the least
understood the hunger in my heart for what it was not in her power to
give. I never told her there was hunger in my heart. I rarely told her of
anything she could not see for herself.
In childhood I had learned the fixedness of her ideas, the rigidity of her
type of mind, the relentlessness of her will; and that independence on
my part survived was due to sturdy stubbornness, to a refusal to be
dominated, and an incapacity for subjection. But this, too, she failed to
understand.
That I would not marry as she wished was a grievous blow to her. I had
no desire to marry, and it was when refusing to do so that certain
realizations came to me sharply, and all the more acutely, because I had
so long been seemingly indifferent to them. On the morning following
the night in which I had faced frankly undeniable facts I went to Aunt
Matilda's room and told her I could no longer be dependent, told her of
my purpose to earn my own living. I was strong, healthy, well educated.
There was no reason why I should not do what other women were
doing.
As I talked her amazement and indignation deepened into anger, and
had I been a child I "would undoubtedly have been punished for my
impertinence and audacity in daring to desire to go out into the world to

earn what there was no necessity for my earning. Socially, a woman
could be autocratic, I was told, but in all things else she should be
dependent on the stronger sex.
"But there is no stronger-sex person for me to be dependent upon, even
were I willing to depend," I said, and made effort to keep back what I
must not say to her, but surely would have said to others. For years I
had been the recipient of her bounty, the object of her care, and she still
thought of me as something to be protected. That I should prefer to
work, prefer to take my place in the world of women-workers, was
beyond her grasp.
"Mr. Chesmond understood when I married him--it is part of our
marriage contract--that you were to have the same advantages as his
daughter. He has very willingly given you these. If you no longer care
to accept his protection, you can marry. Opportunities such as come to
few girls have come to you. A home of your own is yours for the taking.
In my day--"
"But this is not your day!" I bit my lip. When Aunt Matilda's face got a
certain shade of red and her breath became short and quick, I was
uneasy. The doctor had warned us of the seriousness of her condition.
She was pitifully afraid of death--it was the only thing she was afraid
of--and death might come at any time. To prevent excitement there
must be with her no discussion, and, as far as possible, no opposition to
her will.
"Your day and mine are very far apart." I made effort to speak quietly.
"Women no longer have to be adjuncts to men because they don't know
how to be anything else. They can stand up now by themselves.
Conditions have forced them to face life much more--"
"Face fiddlesticks!" Aunt Matilda's hands made an impatient gesture.
"Women have no business doing what many of them are doing today.
They are forgetting the place to which they were appointed by their
Creator. But even if you were at liberty to carry out your silly ideas,
what could you do? How could you earn your living? You play well,
paint a little, read books that do you no good, and hardly enough of the

new novels to discuss them. All this sociological stuff, those scientific
things I see in your room, are absurd for a woman to bother with. Men
dislike women who think too much and know too much. You are well
educated and clever enough, but what could you do if you were
suddenly left without means of support?"
"I don't know what I could do. It's what I want to find out. Half of my
life has been spent in school and college, and during these years I was
taught little that would be of practical service in case of need. I'd like to
use part of my time trying to make educators understand