She was sorry for you; but she was like Aunt Lavvy; she thought it was a good thing to be jilted; for then you were purified; your soul was set free; it went up, writhing and aspiring, in a white flame to God.
II.
"Mary, why are you always admiring yourself in the glass?"
"I'm not admiring myself. I only wanted to see if I was better-looking than last time."
"Why are you worrying about it? You never used to."
"Because I used to think I was pretty."
Her mother smiled. "You were pretty." And took back her smile. "You'd be pretty always if you were happy, and you'd be happy if you were good. There's no happiness for any of us without Christ."
She ignored the dexterous application.
"Do you mean I'm not, then, really, so very ugly?"
"Nobody said you were ugly."