your own."

"But the lady isn't allowed to do any useful kind of work?"

"_Work_! Don't you call all that work, and _useful_? I'm sure I envy the
cook in my kitchen at times; I envy the woman that scrubs my floors. Stop!
Don't ask why I don't go into my kitchen, or get down on my knees with the
mop. It isn't possible. You simply can't. Perhaps you could if you were
very _grande dame_, but if you're anywhere near the line of necessity, or
ever have been, you can't. Besides, if we did do our own household work,
as I understand your Altrurian ladies do, what would become of the servant
class? We should be taking away their living, and that would be wicked."

"It would certainly be wrong to take away the living of a
fellow-creature," the Altrurian gravely admitted, "and I see the obstacle
in your way."

"It's a mountain," said the lady, with exhaustion in her voice, but a
returning amiability; his forbearance must have placated her.

"May I ask what the use of your society life is?" he ventured, after a
moment.

"Use? Why should it have any? It kills time."

"Then you are shut up to a hideous slavery without use, except to kill
time, and you cannot escape from it without taking away the living of
those dependent on you?"

"Yes," I put in, "and that is a difficulty that meets us at every turn. It