"It isn't a slam," she said; "it is quite different. I want to run
straight and fair--and I can't do it and let you pay for my meals;
there's no sense in women being sponges. I know we have been brought
up to beat our way. 'Be pretty, and all things will be added unto
you,' is the first commandment, and the one with the promise. I've
laid hold on that all my life, but to-day I am giving it up. The old
way of training women nearly got me, but not quite--and now I am
making a new start. It isn't too late. The old way of women always
being under an obligation to men has started us wrong. I'm not
blaming you or any one, but I'm done with it. If you see things as I
do, you'll be willing to let me pay. Don't pauperize me any more and
make me feel mean."

"Oh, go as far as you like!" he said petulantly. "Pay for me, too, if
you like--don't leave me a shred of self-respect. This all comes of
giving women the vote. I saw it coming, but I couldn't help it! I like
the old-fashioned women best--but don't mind me!"

"I won't," she said; "nothing is the same as it was. How can anything
go on the same? We have to change to meet new conditions and I'm
starting to-day. I'm going to give up my suite and get a
job--anything--maybe dishwashing. I'm going to do what I can to bring
things right. If every one will do that, the country is safe."

* * * * *

In a certain restaurant there is a little waitress with clustering
black hair and saucy little turned-up nose. She moves quickly, deftly,
decidedly, and always knows what to do. She is young, pretty, and
bright, and many a man has made up his mind to speak to her and ask