"I think it depends entirely upon circumstances," replied Florence.
Marion turned her eyes thoughtfully upon the floor, then, restlessly twisting a cushion tassel between her fingers, she asked earnestly: "Do you think a woman who is tempted and resists, yet feels the subtle poison still in her heart, has sinned?"
Florence was silent a moment, as though weighing the question in her mind. "I would not condemn such a woman," she finally said; "I would pity her."
"What ought she to do?" asked Marion.
"She has kept her self-respect, and I think on that foundation she should build the negative happiness called peace of mind."
"What if the sting is too fresh, the poison too strong? What if the cup is still before her?"
"Then she should dash it resolutely from her, and trust that time will heal the wound."
Marion smiled faintly. She was thinking of an express train rushing toward the East and bearing danger farther and farther away. "Perhaps destiny is kind sometimes," she thought. "Were you ever unhappy, Florence?" she asked after a moment.
"Why, what an absurd question," her friend replied. "Is there any one who has not been unhappy at some time?"
"O, of course people have unpleasant moments which they get over," Marion answered; "but what I call unhappiness is to feel that one has made an irreparable mistake in life, and then to be suddenly shown the unattainable possibility."