f are one or other," said that individual, by this
time pink with anger, "and if you think because I am what I am you can
safely taunt me, you are wrong. See! I have a sting," and like a
thwarted child my companion half drew from the folds of the yellow
tunic-dress the daintiest, most harmless-looking little dagger that was
ever seen.

"Oh, if it comes to that," I answered, touching the Navy scabbard still
at my hip, and regaining my temper at the sight of hers, "why, I have a
sting also--and twice as long as yours! But in truth, An, let us not
talk of these things; if something in what I have said has offended
nice Martian scruples I am sorry, and will question no more, leaving my
wonder for time to settle."

"No," said the other, "it was my fault to be hasty of offence; I am not
so angered once a year. But in truth your question moves us yellow
robes deeply. Did you not really know that we who wear this saffron
tunic are slaves,--a race apart, despised by all."

"'Slaves,' no; how should I know it?"

"I thought you must understand a thing so fundamental, and it was that
thought which made your questions seem unkind. But if indeed you have
come so far as not to understand even this, then let me tell you once
we of this garb were women--priestesses of the immaculate conceptions
of humanity; guardians of those great hopes and longings which die so
easily. And because we forgot our high station and took to aping
another sex the gods deserted and men despised us, giving us, in the
fierceness of their contempt, what we asked for. We are the slave ants
of the nest, the work-bees of the hive, come, in truth, of those here
who still be men and women of a sort, but toilers only; unknown in
love, unregretted in death--those who dangle all children but their
own--slaves cursed with the accomplishment of their own ambition."

There was no doubt poor An believed what she said, for her attitude was
one of extreme dejection while she spoke, and to cheer her I laughed.

"Oh! come, it can't be as bad as that. Surely sometimes some of you
win back to womanhood? You yourself do not look so far gone but what
some deed of abnegation, some strong love if you could but conceive it
would set you right again. Surely you of the primrose robes can
sometimes love?"

Whereat unwittingly I troubled the waters in the placid soul of that
outcast Martian! I cannot exactly describe how it was, but she bent
her head silently for a mom