“Different, you mean, from what he supposes every other girl to be,” Algitha corrected. “It’s his own look-out if he’s such a fool.”
“I believe Hadria married because she was sick of being the family consolation,” said Ernest.
“Well, of course, the hope of escape was very tempting. You boys don’t know what she went through. We all regret her marriage to Hubert Temperley—though between ourselves, not more than he regrets it, if I am not much mistaken—but it is very certain that she could not have gone on living at home much longer, as things were.”
Fred said that she ought to have broken out after Algitha’s fashion, if it was so bad as all that.
“I think mother would have died if she had,” said the sister.
“Hadria was awkwardly placed,” Fred admitted.
“Do you remember that evening in the garret when we all told her what we thought?” asked Ernest.
Nobody had forgotten that painful occasion.
“She said then that if the worst came to the worst, she would simply run away. What could prevent her?”
“That wretched sister of his!” cried Algitha. “If it hadn’t been for her, the marriage would never have taken place. She got the ear of mother after the engagement, and I am certain it was through her influence that mother hurried the wedding on so. If only there had been a little more time, it could have been prevented. And Henriette knew that. She is as knowing——!”