life can’t be wholly wasted, even if she is not able to live up to her aspirations.”

“James Towers! I — that — it’s because you are a man that you can talk so! I’m ashamed, and you a bishop! I wish — ” Betty’s eyes were full of angry tears. “I only wish you were a woman. Slowly improve the race by bearing children — giving them her inheritance! How would she bear them? Year after year — ill fed, half clothed, slaving to raise enough to hold their souls in their bodies, bringing them into the world for a brute who knows only enough to make corn whiskey — to sell it — and drink it — and reproduce his kind — when — when she knows all the time what ought to be! Oh, James, James, think of it!”