The Forerunner Part 149

As to payment, so long as we must measure off our services and pay for them, no form of human work is worthy of higher reward than this. To gather the fruit of all our progress, to prepare it for a child's mind, and lead him to eat that fruit, freely, and so grow to his best and highest--this is _the_ human work.

It should be so prized, so honored, and so paid. And the payment should be for great work done--and bear no relation whatever to age or s.e.x, or s.e.x-relation; much less to the pathological condition of irrelevant husbands.

There is now formed in New York City, "The Married Women Teachers'

a.s.sociation" (secretary, Miss Anna G. Walsh, 22 Harvard Street, Jamaica, N. Y.), the purpose of which is to resist this unjust and illegitimate discrimination.

It is unfortunate that more of the unmarried teachers do not cheerfully a.s.sist in the work.

They do not yet seem to realize that all women should make common cause against what is not only an injustice, but the most insolent and presuming interference on the part of men, with the private and personal affairs of women.

WHAT DIANTHA DID

CHAPTER XIII.

ALL THIS.

They laid before her conquering feet The spoils of many lands; Their crowns shone red upon her head Their scepters in her hands.

She heard two murmuring at night, Where rose-sweet shadows rest; And coveted the blossom red He laid upon her breast.

When Madam Weatherstone shook the plentiful dust of Orchardina from her expensive shoes, and returned to adorn the more cla.s.sic groves of Philadelphia, Mrs. Thaddler a.s.sumed to hold undisputed sway as a social leader.

The Social Leader she meant to be; and marshalled her forces to that end. She Patronized here, and Donated there; revised her visiting list with rigid exclusiveness; secured an Eminent Professor and a Noted Writer as visitors, and gave entertainments of almost Roman magnificence.

Her husband grew more and more restive under the rising tide of social exactions in dress and deportment; and spent more and more time behind his fast horses, or on the stock-ranch where he raised them. As a neighbor and fellow ranchman, he sc.r.a.ped acquaintance with Ross Warden, and was able to render him many small services in the process of settling.

Mrs. Warden remembered his visit to Jopalez, and it took her some time to rearrange him in her mind as a person of wealth and standing. Having so rearranged him, on sufficient evidence, she and her daughters became most friendly, and had hopes of establis.h.i.+ng valuable acquaintance in the town. "It's not for myself I care," she would explain to Ross, every day in the week and more on Sundays, "but for the girls. In that dreadful Jopalez there was absolutely _no_ opportunity for them; but here, with horses, there is no reason we should not have friends. You must consider your sisters, Ross! Do be more cordial to Mr. Thaddler."

But Ross could not at present be cordial to anybody. His unexpected good fortune, the freedom from hated cares, and chance to work out his mighty theories on the faithful guinea-pig, ought to have filled his soul with joy; but Diantha's cruel obstinacy had embittered his cup of joy. He could not break with her; she had not refused him, and it was difficult in cold blood to refuse her.

He had stayed away for two whole weeks, in which time the guinea-pigs nibbled at ease and Diantha's work would have suffered except for her mother's extra efforts. Then he went to see her again, miserable but stubborn, finding her also miserable and also stubborn. They argued till there was grave danger of an absolute break between them; then dropped the subject by mutual agreement, and spent evenings of unsatisfying effort to talk about other things.

Diantha and her mother called on Mrs. Warden, of course, admiring the glorious view, the sweet high air, and the embowered loveliness of the two ranch houses. Ross drew Diantha aside and showed her "theirs"--a lovely little wide-porched concrete cottage, with a red-tiled roof, and heavy ma.s.ses of Gold of Ophir and Banksia roses.

He held her hand and drew her close to him.

He kissed her when they were safe inside, and murmured: "Come, darling--won't you come and be my wife?"

"I will, Ross--whenever you say--but--!" She would not agree to give up her work, and he flung away from her in reckless despair. Mrs. Warden and the girls returned the call as a matter of duty, but came no more; the mother saying that she could not take her daughters to a Servant Girls' Club.

And though the Servant Girls' Club was soon removed to its new quarters and Union House became a quiet, well-conducted hotel, still the two families saw but little of each other.

Mrs. Warden naturally took her son's side, and considered Diantha an unnatural monster of hard-heartedness.

The matter sifted through to the ears of Mrs. Thaddler, who rejoiced in it, and called upon Mrs. Warden in her largest automobile. As a mother with four marriageable daughters, Mrs. Warden was delighted to accept and improve the acquaintance, but her aristocratic Southern soul was inwardly rebellious at the ancestorlessness and uncultured moneyed pride of her new friend.

"If only Madam Weatherstone had stayed!" she would complain to her daughters. "She had Family as well as Wealth."

"There's young Mrs. Weatherstone, mother--" suggested Dora.

"A n.o.body!" her mother replied. "She has the Weatherstone money, of course, but no Position; and what little she has she is losing by her low tastes. She goes about freely with Diantha Bell--her own housekeeper!"

"She's not her housekeeper now, mother--"

"Well, it's all the same! She _was!_ And a mere general servant before that! And now to think that when Ross is willing to overlook it all and marry her, she won't give it up!"

They were all agreed on this point, unless perhaps that the youngest had her inward reservations. Dora had always liked Diantha better than had the others.

Young Mrs. Weatherstone stayed in her big empty house for a while, and as Mrs. Warden said, went about frequently with Diantha Bell. She liked Mrs. Bell, too--took her for long stimulating rides in her comfortable car, and insisted that first one and then the other of them should have a bit of vacation at her seash.o.r.e home before the winter's work grew too heavy.

With Mrs. Bell she talked much of how Diantha had helped the town.

"She has no idea of the psychic effects, Mrs. Bell," said she. "She sees the business, and she has a great view of all it is going to do for women to come; but I don't think she realizes how much she is doing right now for women here--and men, too. There were my friends the p.o.r.nes; they were 'drifting apart,' as the novels have it--and no wonder. Isabel was absolutely no good as a housekeeper; he naturally didn't like it--and the baby made it all the worse; she pined for her work, you see, and couldn't get any time for it. Now they are as happy as can be--and it's just Diantha Bell's doings. The housework is off Isabel's shoulders.

"Then there are the Wagrams, and the Sheldons, and the Brinks--and ever so many more--who have told me themselves that they are far happier than they ever were before--and can live more cheaply. She ought to be the happiest girl alive!"

Mrs. Bell would agree to this, and quite swelled with happiness and pride; but Mrs. Weatherstone, watching narrowly, was not satisfied.

When she had Diantha with her she opened fire direct. "You ought to be the happiest, proudest, most triumphant woman in the world!" she said.

"You're making oodles of money, your whole thing's going well, and look at your mother--she's made over!"

Diantha smiled and said she was happy; but her eyes would stray off to the very rim of the ocean; her mouth set in patient lines that were not in the least triumphant.

"Tell me about it, my friend," said her hostess. "Is it that he won't let you keep on with the business?"

Diantha nodded.

"And you won't give it up to marry him?"

"No," said Diantha. "No. Why should I? I'd marry him--to-morrow!"

She held one hand with the other, tight, but they both shook a little.

"I'd be glad to. But I will not give up my work!"

"You look thin," said Mrs. Weatherstone.

"Yes--"

"Do you sleep well?"

"No--not very."

"And I can see that you don't eat as you ought to. Hm! Are you going to break down?"