Her sister made no attempt to quiet her. She felt it would be useless. All she did was to stroke her beautiful hair and murmur:
"Don't cry, dear, everything will be all right."
"I'm So Unhappy, Dear," Cried Virginia.
In broken sentences, interrupted every now and then by renewed weeping, Virginia cried:
"I'm so unhappy—dear—so unhappy—you will never know. This thing is not of yesterday—I've endured it so long—until I could stand it no longer. He despises me—he said he did. He bought me—and paid for me. How can he have anything but contempt for me?"
"What did he do or say?" demanded Fanny, at a loss what to advise. "What does he say this morning? Have you spoken to him?"
Virginia, more calm, shook her head.
"No—I've scarcely exchanged a word with him. He can't definitely recall what he said or did, but he is thoroughly repentant and ashamed."
"That's something anyway," said Fanny encouragingly.