. It isn't
that men are so bad. It's just because they haven't any idea what real
work housework is. How is your husband?"

"About as usual," replied Pen.

Jane Ames looked out the door, then back at Pen. "Are you ever sorry you
got married?"

Pen looked a little startled, but after a moment she answered, "I used
to be."

"You mean you aren't now?" asked Jane.

"I mean I'm glad I've got the things marriage has brought me."

Jane's eyes lighted. She sat down opposite Pen. "I'm just starved for a
talk with some woman who isn't afraid to say what she really thinks
about this marriage business. What have you got out of being married to
a cripple?"

Pen chuckled. "Well, I'm really a first-class nurse, and like Bismarck,
I can keep my mouth shut in seven different languages."

"Isn't that so!" exclaimed Jane. "Oscar insists on doing all the talking
for us and I let him. Some day if I ever find anything worth saying,
though, I'll surprise him. I'm in the 'What's the use?' stage right now.
Men are awful hard to live with."

"Almost as hard as women!" said Pen. "We're all so silly about it. We
expect marriage to bring us happiness with no effort on our own parts,
just as if the only aim of getting married were to be happy."

"Mercy sakes!" exclaimed Jane. She sat forward on the edge of the chair.
"Go on! Don't stop. I knew the minute I saw you that talking to you
would beat writing to the advice column of a woman's magazine. What is
it we marry for, anyhow?"

Pen laughed. "Well, when we don't marry to be happy, we marry out of
curiosity. It's funny when you think of it. Two people with nothing in
common have a period of insanity during which they tie themselves
together in a hard knot which they can't undo and then they must feed on
each other for the rest of their lives."

Jane gasped a little. "You--you aren't bitter, are you, Mrs. Penelope? I
can't say your other name easy. You believe there are _some_ happy
marriages, don't you?"

Pen shrugged her shoulders. "No, I'm not bitter. I've just lost my
illusions. I don't happen to know of any marriages so happy that they
would tempt me to marry again."

"I feel kind of wicked talking this way," said Jane. "But," recklessly,
"you've seen the world and I haven't. And it's my chance to learn real
life. You don't mean people ought not to marry, do you?" This in a
half-whisper of utter demoralization.

"Oh, no! Marriage is the best means we've found for perpetuating