Joan nodded and turned her attention to Miss Sarah Clarke who was passionately stating a case for women’s continued education.

“It’s not enough to read and write and study embroidery. To hinder a woman’s education while supporting and pressuring men to continue with the enrichment of their minds is unfair. To have a university for men that will not allow a woman entrance is the worst sort of biased behavior.”

A murmur of agreement swelled among the group.

Joan listened to further talk, then after a brief pause added, “It is undermining to society as a whole to have women in a subordinate position to men and teaches future generations of women that it is acceptable to be told your value based on your education and societal rights. Women deserve the same fundamental rights as men.”

This brought on a fresh discussion, and in too short a time, the meeting was adjourned.

“You did well today,” Lady Sandra encouraged Joan as she stood.

“Thank you, yet I can’t help but feel a little…lacking?” Joan fought for the correct word. “We discuss, and yet nothing happens. I want…I want something to come from this.”

Lady Sandra gave a sad nod. “I understand. It takes time. We stay the course, and eventually we will have more of a voice. But in the meantime, why don’t you explore another way to make a difference in young girls’ lives? I know your heart. Lady Joan, and it’s restless to do good. Have you heard of Thomas Coram’s Foundling Hospital? They contacted me asking for women volunteers. They have young girls who need to be educated, and this would be a fantastic opportunity for you to give young ladies—as you so passionately said earlier—a taste of a woman who knows her value and fights for greater influence.”

Joan nodded. “I’ll look into it today.”

Sandra answered. “The woman who contacted me is Miss Corinne Vanderhaul. Mention my name when you meet her. She’ll explain what is needed. You can reach her by sending a missive to the hospital. She’s expecting some referrals.”

“Thank you.” Joan squeezed her friend’s hand and moved to leave, but heard her name.

“Lady Joan?”

Joan turned toward the voice and noted the one new face in their meeting. She moved to offer a kind welcome, but the girl was quicker and extended her gloved hand as Joan approached.

“Forgive me for being so bold, but I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Miss Bronson, my father is Baron Treyson. I believe I saw you last night at the Moorson rout.”

Joan grasped her hand. “Yes, indeed, I was there. And it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Is this your first time attending? Or have you met with a different chapter before?”