"Sometimes I have
thought," she continued, "that it was not altogether his fault. With the
error of tenderness and confidence I believed that my life was his, his
mine; I believed that his every thought belonged to me--and perhaps I
asked him too many questions, and when a woman begins to do that, she is
unconsciously setting a trap for her husband."
For a moment the girl looked at her. "I don't know what you mean. But
when you came here with all yo' putty dresses, I thought you must be
happy."
"Little girl, there are many well-dressed troubles, and misery may
gleam with diamonds. But we won't talk about it. I have battled it out
and now I am surprised--and perhaps just a little disappointed," she
added with a laugh, "to find that I'm not as unhappy as I was. Sometimes
there is a consolation in feeling that we are utterly wretched."
"Is there?" She meditated for a time, puzzled, and then said: "I don't
believe it. You might just as well say that we have better health when
we're sick."
Mrs. Mayfield looked away, and the girl stricken with remorse, hastened
to her and said: "There, I have been too brash, haven't I? You must
forgive me for I didn't intend to be brash.
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