suits our native power; these talents smothered in your brain and mine shall come to life in vigorous growth.  Here in the world, struggling meanly for food, this cannot be.  That shall be the true Utopia, Grey.  Some day all mankind shall so live.  We, now.  “Will you come?”—­drawing her softly towards him.  “You do not yield?”—­looking in her face.  “I am sincere.  I see the truth of the life-scheme of these people through my love for you.  No human soul can reach its full stature, unless it be free and happy.  There is no chain on women such as marriages like yours.”

Still silence.

“I say that there are slaveries in society, and false marriages are the worst; and until you and all women are free from them, you never can become what God meant you to be.  Do I speak truth?”

“It is true.”

“You will come with me, then?”—­his face growing red.

For one moment her head rested against the rock, languid and nerveless.  Then she stood erect.

“I will not go, Paul.”

He caught her arm; but she shook him off, and held her hand to her side to keep down an actual physical pain that some women suffer when their hearts are tried.  Her eyes, it may be, were wakened into a new resolve.  It was useless for him now to appeal to feeling or passion:  he had left the decision to her reason,—­to her faith.  They were stronger than he.

“I will not go, Paul.”

No answer.

“I have no words like you,”—­raising her hands to her head,—­“but I feel you are wrong in what you say.”

She tried to collect herself, then went on.

“It is true that women sell themselves.  I did it,—­to escape.  I was taught wrong, as girls are.  It’s true, Paul, that women are cramped and unhappy through false marriages, and that there are cursed laws in society that defraud the poor and the slave.”

She stopped, pale and frightened, struggling to find utterance, not being used to put her thought into words.  He watched her keenly.

“But it is not true, Paul,”—­with choked eagerness,—­“that this life was given to us only to develop our souls, to be free and happy.  That will come after,—­in heaven.  It is given here only to those who pray for it.  There’s something better here.”

“What?”

“To submit.  It seems to me there are some great laws—­for the good of all.  When we break them, we must submit.  Let them go over us, and try to help others,—­what is that text?” holding her head a minute,—­“’even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister.’”

“You mean to submit?”

“I do.  I married that man of my own free will:  driven, maybe, by mean fears,—­but—­I did it.  I will not forswear myself.”

She gained courage as she went on.

“I believe that God Himself, and that our Lord, taught the meaning of a true marriage as you do,—­that without that affinity it is none.  The curse comes to every woman who disregards it.  It has come to me.  I’ll bear it.”