“And are they successful rulers?”

“Some are, some are not.”

“The same as men. That proves that your women are not really inferior.”

“Well, I should say not!” I retorted. “Our women are very superior; we treat them more as princesses than as inferiors,—they are angels.”

I was carried away in the heat of resentment, and knew that what I had said was half cant.

“I beg your pardon!” said Severnius quickly; “I got a wrong impression from your statements. I fear I am very stupid. Are they all angels?”

I gave him a furtive glance and saw that he was in earnest. His brows were drawn together with a puzzled look.

I had a sudden vision of a scene in Five Points; several groups of frowsled, petticoated beings, laughing, joking, swearing, quarreling, fighting, and drinking beer from dirty mugs.

“No, not all of them,” I replied, smiling. “That was a figure of speech. There are so many classes.”

“Let us confine our discussion to one, then,” he returned. “To the women who might be of your own family; that will simplify matters. And now tell me, please, how this state of things came about, this subjection of a part of your people. I cannot understand it,—these subjects being of your own flesh and blood. I should think it would breed domestic discontent, where some of the members of a family wield a power and enjoy a privilege denied to the others. Fancy my shaking a ballot over Elodia’s head!”

“O, Elodia!” I said, and was immediately conscious that my accent was traitorous to my countrywomen. I made haste to add,

“Your sister is—incomparable. She is unusual even here. I have seen none others like her.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that she is as responsible as a man; she is not inconsequent.”

“Are your women inconsequent?”

“They have been called so, and we think it rather adds to their attractiveness. You see they have always been relieved of responsibility, and I assure you the large majority of them have no desire to assume it,—I mean in the matter of government and politics.”

“Yes?”

I dislike an interrogative “yes,” and I made no reply. Severnius added,

“I suppose they have lost the faculty which you say they lack,—the faculty that makes people responsible,—through disuse. I have seen the same thing in countries on the other side of our globe, where races have been held as slaves for several centuries. They seem to have no ideas about personal rights, or liberties, as pertaining to themselves, and no inclination in that direction. It always struck me as being the most pathetic feature of their condition that they and everybody else accepted it as a matter of course, as they would a law of nature. In the place of strength and self-assertion there has come to them a dumb patience, or an unquestioning acquiescence like that of people born blind. Are your women happy?”

“You should see them!” I exclaimed, with certain ball-room memories rushing upon me, and visions of fair faces radiant with the joy of living. But these were quickly followed by other pictures, and I felt bound to add, “Of late, a restless spirit has developed in certain circles,—”

“The working circles, I suppose,” interrupted Severnius. “You spoke of the working women getting into the professions.”

“Not those exclusively. Even the women of leisure are not so satisfied as they used to be. There has been, for a great many years, more or less chaffing about women’s rights, but now they are beginning to take the matter seriously.”

“Ah, they are waking up, perhaps?”

“Yes, some of them are waking up,—a good many of them. It is a little ridiculous, when one thinks of it, seeing they have no power to enforce their ‘rights’, and can never attain them except through the condescension of men. Tell me, Severnius, when did your women wake up?”

Severnius smiled. “My dear sir, I think they have never been asleep!”

We stalked along silently for a time; the subject passed out of my mind, or was driven out by the beauties of the landscape about us. I was especially impressed with the magnificence of the trees that hedged every little patch of farm land, and threw their protecting arms around houses and cottages, big and little; and with the many pellucid streams flowing naturally, or divided like strands of silk and guided in new courses, to lave the roots of trees or run through pasture lands where herds were feeding.

A tree is something to be proud of in Paleveria, more than a fine residence; more even than ancient furniture and cracked china. Perhaps because the people sit out under their trees a great deal, and the shade of them has protected the heads of many generations, and they have become hallowed through sacred memories and traditions. In Paleveria they have tree doctors, whose business it is to ward off disease, heal wounded or broken boughs, and exterminate destructive insects.

Severnius startled me suddenly with another question:

“What, may I ask, is your theory of Man’s creation?”

“God made Man, and from one of his ribs fashioned woman,” I replied catechetically.

“Ours is different,” said he. “It is this: A pair of creatures, male and female, sprang simultaneously from an enchanted lake in the mountain region of a country called Caskia, in the northern part of this continent. They were only animals, but they were beautiful and innocent. God breathed a Soul into them and they were Man and Woman, equals in all things.”

“A charming legend!” said I.

Later on I learned the full breadth of the meaning of the equality he spoke of. At that time it was impossible for me to comprehend it, and I can only convey it to you in a complete account of my further experiences on that wonderful planet.