“You can’t even make capital of this purchase of a house of your own?”
“I don’t like to do that.”
“My dear, I see your delicacy and forbearance, and I would not urge you, if I did not see how deeply your happiness is concerned. Of course I don’t mean merely the authority over the wirthschaft, though somehow the cares of it are an ingredient in female contentment; but forgive me, Cecil, I am certain that you will never take your right place—where you care for it more—till you have a home of your own.”
“Ah!” The responsive sound burst from the very depths of Cecil’s heart, penetrated as they had never been before; but pride and reserve at once sprang up, and she answered coldly, “I have no reason to complain.”
“Right, my dear Cecil, I like you the better;” and she pressed her hand.
“It is quite true,” said Cecil, withdrawing hers.
“Quite, absolutely true. He would die rather than give you any reason for the slightest murmur; but, Cecil, dearest, that very heedfulness shows there is something he cannot give you.”
“I don’t know why you should say so,” answered a proud but choked voice.
“I say so,” replied the clear tones, firmly, though with a touch of pity, “because I see it. Cecil, poor child, they married you very young!”
“I missed nothing,” exclaimed Cecil; but she felt that she could only say so in the past, and her eyes burnt with unshed tears.