“The question has disturbed you?” said the lady.

“It has,” was the brief answer.

“Why should it disturb you?”

Irene did not answer.

“I can tell you.”

“Say on.”

“You are in bonds, and feel the fetters.”

“Mrs. Talbot!”

“It is so, my poor child, and you know it as well as I do.  From the beginning of our acquaintance I have seen this; and more than once, in our various conversations, you have admitted the fact.”

“I?”

“Yes, you.”

Irene let her thoughts run back through the sentiments and opinions which she had permitted herself to utter in the presence of her friend, to see if she had so fully betrayed herself.  She could not recall the distinct language, but it was plain that Mrs. Talbot had her secret, and therefore reserve on the subject was useless.

“Well,” she said, after standing for some time before Mrs. Talbot, “if I am in bonds, it is not because I do not worship freedom.”

“I know that,” was the quickly-spoken answer.  “And it is because I wish to see you a free woman that I point to your bonds.  Now is the time to break them—­now, before years have increased their strength—­now, before habit has made tyranny a part of your husband’s nature.  He is your ruler, because the social sentiment is in favor of manly domination.  There is hope for you now, and now only.  You must begin the work of reaction while both are young.  Let your husband understand, from this time, that you are his equal.  It may go a little hard at first.  He will, without doubt, hold on to the reins, for power is sweet; but if there be true love for you in his heart, he will yield in the struggle, and make you his companion and equal, as you should be.  If his love be not genuine, why—­”

She checked herself.  It might be going a step too far with her young friend to utter the thought that was coming to her lips.  Irene did not question her as to what more she was about to say.  There was stimulus enough in the words already spoken.  She felt all the strength of her nature rising into opposition.

“Yes, I will be free,” she said in her heart.  “I will be his equal, not his slave.”

“It may cost you some pain in the beginning,” resumed the tempter.

“I am not afraid of pain,” said Irene.

“A brave heart spoke there.  I wish we had more on our side with the stuff you are made of.  There would be hope of a speedier reform than is now promised.”

“Heaven send the reform right early!  It cannot come a day too soon.”  Irene spoke with rising ardor.

“It will be our own fault,” said Mrs. Talbot, “if we longer bow our necks to the yoke or move obedient to our task-masters.  Let us lay the axe to the very root of this evil and hew it down.”

“Even if we are crushed by the tree in falling,” responded Irene, in the spirit of a martyr.