“Well, she’s paying for it with a headache. Such excitements are not meant for her, I’ve already told you—”
“Yes,” Mrs. Ralston interrupted. “It’s to continue our talk of last night that I’ve asked you to come up.”
“To continue it?” The brick-red circles appeared on Charlotte’s dried cheeks. “Is it worth while? I think I ought to tell you at once that my mind’s made up. I suppose you’ll admit that I know what’s best for Tina.”
“Yes; of course. But won’t you at least allow me a share in your decision?”
“A share?”
Delia leaned forward, laying a warm hand on her cousin’s interlocked fingers. “Charlotte, once in this room, years ago, you asked me to help you—you believed I could. Won’t you believe it again?”
Charlotte’s lips grew rigid. “I believe the time has come for me to help myself.”
“At the cost of Tina’s happiness?”
“No; but to spare her greater unhappiness.”
“But, Charlotte, Tina’s happiness is all I want.”