"Has she?" inquired Nurse Rosemary.
"No," said Garth, shortly; "and she never will."
"She must."
Something in the tone of quiet insistence struck Garth.
"Why?" he asked; and listened with interest for the answer.
"Because of all it would mean to a woman who knows herself plain, to see herself thus beautified."
Garth sat very still for a few moments. Then: "A woman who—knows—herself—plain?" he repeated, with interrogative amazement in his voice.
"Yes," proceeded Nurse Rosemary, encouraged. "Do you suppose, for a moment, that that lady's mirror has ever shown her a reflection in any way approaching what you have made her in these pictures? When we stand before our looking-glasses, Mr. Dalmain, scowling anxiously at hats and bows, and partings, we usually look our very worst; and that lady, at her very worst, would be of a most discouraging plainness."
Garth sat perfectly silent.
"Depend upon it," continued Nurse Rosemary, "she never sees herself as 'The Wife'—'The Mother.' Is she a wife?".