Anna was momentarily taken back by the strength of the opposition.
"I would," she answered, seriously. "In your place, I would say to myself, 'He cheated me, I cheated him. That's equal. Now we'll make the best of life and help one another.' You know, Venna dear, the average man is no better than Hadly. It wasn't his fault that you were brought up with your eyes shut, was it? Why hate him any more than any one else? Be fair, Venna. He has a right to be well thought of in other respects."
Venna shook her head sadly.
"Yes, I sinned when I married without love. I see that now. But I never could love a man who looks upon his past impurity as a matter of course. So if I never could love him, where is the logic in remaining his wife?"
"Couldn't you pity him enough to let love creep in?" urged Anna.
"One can't love to order," returned Venna sadly.
"Well, if you can't, you can't," concluded Anna, giving up a hopeless case. "But at least, you won't hate him and treat him with scorn."
"No, Anna, I see where I'm not much better in many respects. You've opened my eyes to my own injustice. I'll try not to hate him, and—yes, it has been all self. I see it now."
"It is always self with us girls until we are mothers. Venna, I never woke up myself until—O, can't you guess, Venna? I have a wonderful surprise for you!" And she hugged Venna impulsively.
"You don't mean," began Venna, disentangling herself.