"I don't mind one from you; but I do think it's a shame, a horrible shame."
"What is a shame?" asked Marjorie.
"My being laid on my back like this. Do you know, Marjorie, I was to have been married in May?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Marjorie. "I had not heard about it."
"Oh, didn't you know? We were going to London to get my trousseau the very week that this accident happened. We were making all the plans about the wedding, and actually had patterns in the house for choosing the bridesmaids' dresses; and now here I am, lying helpless on my back, and my wedding put off indefinitely. It is an awful shame!"
"Don't say that, Lady Violet," said Marjorie, "because God has sent the trouble; hasn't He?"
"Then I think God is very cruel! What pleasure can it be to Him to punish me like this?"
"He doesn't like to see you suffer, Lady Violet. Oh, don't ever think that! It is because He loves you He has let this trouble come."
"I don't see much love in it! I suppose you mean that God thinks I need punishing; but I've never done anything to deserve it, and I do think it's a horrid shame!"
"Oh, don't say that!" said Marjorie. "Dear Lady Violet, don't say that!"