"I guess she hasn't had the chance," said Mrs. Amber, with the disbelief of the old married woman in spinster charms.
"Oh, yes, she has, mother. She's had several chances. But she knows when she's lucky; she's her own mistress, and she has her own money and her freedom."
"She's missing a great deal; and some day she'll know it."
"She knows it now, thank you. She knows she's missing illness and pain and poverty and worry, and the whims and fancies and bad tempers of a husband."
Mrs. Amber said soothingly: "Now, now, my dear, you're not yourself, or you wouldn't say such things. It's every woman's duty to marry if she can and have children. As to your husband, it's no use expecting anything of men but what you get; and the sooner you realise it, my love, the happier you'll be."
"I'll never realise it!" Marie fired.
"Then you'll never settle down contentedly as you ought to."
"Why ought I, mother?"
"Because there's nothing else to be done," replied Mrs. Amber sensibly.
"You're right there," Marie moaned, with her forehead against the chair back, "there's nothing else to be done."