“Now I must sit here and watch this horrible thing!” she said to herself. “Oh God! Oh God! Do other mothers feel like this? How can they smile?... How can they be pleased—and try to make matches?... Am I a morbid, perverted woman? It’s her destiny to marry someone—and he’s a kind man.... I must be glad!”
She heard their responses, both of their voices steady and clear, both of them making those promises.
“I must be happy!” she said, again. “It’s just the beginning of her life. There is sure to be so much joy and accomplishment in it.... This is only one step.... I must have fortitude. I can’t live her life for her....”
She rose, to face the little man’s wife. She kissed her pale, sombre face, she clasped his hand.
“Be happy!” she said.
Then she looked round in a sort of panic for Bertie.
“Bertie!” she whispered. “Take me home! Take me home!”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE BEGINNING
§ i
THAT day she brought an electric tea-pot. They laughed when she took it from its box, for she always brought something, she was trying to introduce an element of house-keeping into their business-like existence.