And, more touched by her word picture of facts than by the facts themselves, the tears rose again in her eyes.
"Some people would think it quite a lot of fun to be married to Letitia," said Nan gently.
But Mrs. Rossiter only shook her head, repeating, "It's all my fault—all my fault!"
"How can it be your fault, Mrs. Rossiter?" Nan asked a little sharply.
Mrs. Rossiter glanced over her shoulder to be sure no one had reëntered the room while her nose was in her handkerchief.
"He never was in love with Letitia—not really, you know—not romantically," she said. "And when a young, ardent boy like Roger is tied for life—to an older woman—whom he doesn't really love—what can you expect?"
This view of the case was so unexpected to Nan that she could hardly receive it.
"Letitia believes he loves her," she said.
"Does she?" answered Mrs. Rossiter in a tone that made the question a contradiction. "Or does she only try to believe it? Or it may be she doesn't know what it is to have a man really in love with her. These modern girls—"
"More men have been in love with Letitia than with any girl I ever knew," said Nan firmly. "And unless your son has definitely told you that he does not love her—"