“Of course, if you repudiate all moral claim——” began Henriette, weakly.
“I will not insult your intelligence by considering that remark.”
“Are you determined to harden yourself against every appeal?” Hadria looked at her sister-in-law, in silence.
“Why don’t you answer me, Hadria?”
“Because I have just been endeavouring, evidently in vain, to explain in what light I regard appeals on this point.”
“Then Hubert and the children are to be punished for what you are pleased to call his fraud—the fraud of a man in love with you, anxious to please you, to agree with you, and believing you too good and noble to allow his life to be spoilt by this girl’s craze for freedom. It is inconceivable!”
“I fear that Hubert must be prepared to endure the consequences of his actions, like the rest of us. It is the custom, I know, for the sex that men call weaker, to saddle themselves with the consequences of men’s deeds, but I think we should have a saner, and a juster world if the custom were discontinued.”
“You have missed one of the noblest lessons of life, Hadria,” cried Miss Temperley, rising to leave. “You do not understand the meaning of self-sacrifice.”
“A principle that, in woman, has been desecrated by misuse,” said Hadria. “There is no power, no quality, no gift or virtue, physical or moral, that we have not been trained to misuse. Self-sacrifice stands high on the list.”
Miss Temperley shrugged her shoulders, sadly and hopelessly.