“I am repeating what I heard verbatim—
“‘—but a fool. She lets the girl go marauding all over the place alone. Ahem! Well, not exactly alone—because she trusts her absolutely!’
“At this they all roared.” Here Mrs. Hesketh paused. Letty was now sobbing audibly, her face buried in her hands.
“Then a man asked, ‘How did you find her?’” pursued Mrs. Hesketh.
“‘Angus McKenzie gave me the tip; he was here last year—met her on the boat, and they got tremendously chummy. He used to take her about, and give her treats, when she was supposed to be having lessons in Lucerne—ha! ha! But, mind you, she knows how to take rattling good care of herself. She was capital company, with a lot of “go,” and wonderfully advanced ideas for her age—especially with regard to spending money!’”
Here Mrs. Hesketh paused, and looked at her companion, who was still sobbing hysterically.
“Letty, are you listening to me? Do please pull yourself together!”
“I am, of course, listening,” she gasped. “I am—oh, it is all my fault. Oh, Cousin Maude, do not blame the child! I’ve been a bad mother after all! I allowed her to slip out of my hands, and gave her her own way, and was too, too indulgent; but I myself was so strictly brought up, and had so little love, and sympathy, and freedom, I was resolved that Cara should never suffer in the same way.”
“Letty, be quiet!” interposed her friend angrily. “I won’t sit here, and listen to you abusing yourself. You have been too self-sacrificing, and, I’m afraid, weak. But how could you oppose your will to Cara’s? Hers is of iron,—and you know your own failing. You sent her to excellent schools, you believed she had good companions; you could not conduct her to and from school, or be always with her like a keeper—you had to work hard, to maintain yourself and her, and, when possible, you shared her pleasures and made yourself her companion—you could have done no more.”
“And I could not well do less,” said Letty as she dried her eyes. “Was that all the men said?”