"That would rest in your own hands. Of course, it is a risk, if, indeed, you mean what you say, Tita"—watching her closely—"that you do not care for Maurice. But"—anxiously—"at all events, you do not care for anyone else?"
"No—no—no" petulantly—"why should I? I think all men more trouble than they are worth."
"If that is so, and you are heart-whole, I think it your positive duty to live with your husband," says Margaret, with decision. "How can you hesitate, Tita? Are the vows you uttered at the altar nothing to you? Many a woman lives with a bad husband through conscientious motives, and——"
"I don't believe it," says Tita, who is evidently in one of her most wayward moods. "They go on living with their horrid husbands because they are afraid of what people will say about them. You know you said something about it yourself just now, and so did—he; something about the world being disagreeable to any woman, however good, who is separated from the man she married."
Margaret gives up the argument.
"Well," says she, smiling, "at all events, Maurice isn't a horrid husband."
"You say that because he isn't yours," with a shrug.
"Come back here, you bad child," says Margaret, laughing now, "and listen to me for a little while longer. You know, Tita, darling, that I have your interest, and yours only, at heart. Promise me you will at least think of what Maurice proposes."
"Oh, I've promised him that," says Tita, frowning.
"You have?" cries Margaret. "Oh, you good girl! Come! that's right. And so you parted not altogether at war? How glad I am! And he—he was glad, too. He"—anxiously—"he said——"