"Well," said Rose, as she went into Violet's room that night, "what do you say now?"
"I think you are right."
"I am sure of it."
"And yet, Rose—place yourself in my position—is it not horrible to think of his having once loved her?"
Rose felt that it was, but unwilling to say so, merely remarked that he was then but a boy, and boys must love somebody.
"Yes, but her! Any one rather than her! Oh, Rose, I shall never be happy!"
"Don't say that. He has clearly forgotten all about it—treats it as a boyish flirtation. His heart is undeniably yours—happy girl that you are to be able to say so! Would that I could know Julius was mine on the same conditions!"
"Would you accept him?"
"Gladly."
"And the thought of her would not poison your happiness?"