to do, mother?"

"There's reason in what he says. It is an opportunity. You could be of
use, in that way, and perhaps it's the only way. Yes," she continued,
fascinated by the logic of the position, and its capabilities for
vicarious self-sacrifice. "I don't see how you can get out of it: You
have spent years and years of study, and a great deal of money, to
educate yourself for a profession that you're too weak to practise
alone. You can't say that I ever advised your doing it. It was your
own idea, and I did n't oppose it. But when you've gone so far, you've
formed an obligation to go on. It's your duty not to give up, if you
know of any means to continue. That's your duty, as plain as can be. To
say nothing of the wicked waste of your giving up now, you're bound to
consider the effect it would have upon other women who are trying to
do something for themselves. The only thing," she added, with some
misgiving, "is whether you believe he was in earnest and would keep his
word to you."

"I think he was secretly laughing at me, and that he would expect to
laugh me out of his promise."

"Well, then, you ought to take time to reflect, and you ought to be sure
that you're right about him."

"Is that what you really think, mother?"

"I am always governed by reason, Grace, and by right; and I have brought
you up on that plan. If you have ever departed from it, it has not been
with my consent, nor for want of my warning. I have simply laid the
matter before you."

"Then you wish me to marry him?"

This was perhaps a point that had not occurred to Mrs. Breen in her
recognition of the strength of Dr. Mulbridge's position. It was one
thing to trace the path of duty; another to support the aspirant in
treading it. "You ought to take time to reflect," Mrs. Green repeated,
with evasion that she never used in behalf of others.

"Well, mother," answered Grace, "I didn't take time to reflect, and
I should n't care whether I was right about him or not. I refused him
because I did n't love him. If I had loved him that would have been
the only reason I needed to marry him. But all the duty in the world
wouldn't be enough without it. Duty? I am sick of duty! Let the other
women who are trying to do something for themselves, take care of
themselves as men would. I don't owe them more than a man would owe
other men, and I won't be hoodwinked into thinking I do. As for the
waste, the past is gone, at any rate; and the waste that I