Then the sister-love, so true and genuine, pulled strong.
“Hugh, I can’t bear that you should harbour this or lay it up against Peggy,” she said. “She wanted the happiness of both of us so much; of that I am absolutely convinced, but she thought we should not find it permanently together.”
Hugh gave a little impatient click of his tongue.
“I’m glad we told her that we didn’t want her,” he remarked. “Perhaps she will faintly begin to understand that we are tolerably happy.”
“Yes, I hope so. Now tell me you won’t let it make any difference to you in your feeling for her.”
Hugh shook his head.
“Can’t promise,” he said. “If a person behaves differently from what you expected, he becomes to some extent a different person. And Peggy is different from what I thought her. Oh, I have been just! Until I knew, I have honestly tried not to behave as if my guess had been true. But now that I know it is true it isn’t quite the same Peggy.”
“Ah, but it was entirely her desire for our happiness that made her try to dissuade me!” said Edith in some distress. “You must give her credit for that. Best of all, have it out with her. She will convince you—no, not that she was right—don’t be so silly!—but that she was doing the best she could. That is all that can be asked of anybody.”
Hugh’s face cleared a little.
“Yes, if an opportunity comes,” he said. “But what nonsense it all is to try to look forward ten years! How can one know what ten years will bring? And since one can’t know that, what is the value of the picture? It is purely imaginary, and probably untrue.”