“I am doubtful. That is a letter of despair, and I can’t close my ears to it.”
“You had an affection for the girl. Help her, by all means, if you feel compelled to. But you would hardly dream of taking her back again?”
“That’s the point. Why shouldn’t I?”
“For one thing,” replied Rhoda, looking coldly down upon her friend, “you will never do any good with her. For another, she isn’t a suitable companion for the girls she would meet here.”
“I can’t be sure of either objection. She acted with deplorable rashness, with infatuation, but I never discovered any sign of evil in her. Did you?”
“Evil? Well, what does the word mean? I am not a Puritan, and I don’t judge her as the ordinary woman would. But I think she has put herself altogether beyond our sympathy. She was twenty-two years old—no child—and she acted with her eyes open. No deceit was practised with her. She knew the man had a wife, and she was base enough to accept a share of his attentions. Do you advocate polygamy? That is an intelligible position, I admit. It is one way of meeting the social difficulty. But not mine.”
“My dear Rhoda, don’t enrage yourself.”
“I will try not to.”
“But I can’t see the temptation to do so. Come and sit down, and talk quietly. No, I have no fondness for polygamy. I find it very hard to understand how she could act as she did. But a mistake, however wretched, mustn’t condemn a woman for life. That’s the way of the world, and decidedly it mustn’t be ours.”
“On this point I practically agree with the world.”