She misunderstood him, and, because she did so, she laughed softly.
“Do you mean that I am falling in love with you, and that it is hopeless because of the other woman?�
“No; I did not mean that. I had no thought of such a thing. The other woman—the one to whom I referred, has been dead for many years. She was my mother.â€�
“Oh!�
Startled, chastened for the moment, Madge sat quite still. If he had looked up at her then he would have seen that moisture had gathered suddenly in her eyes; that all that quality of flame had departed out of them, and that they were soft, kindly, and genuine. And she remained so, quite silent and still, until he spoke again.
“She passed away, out of my sight, when I was only a little kiddie,� he said softly, “but in some ways she is just as much alive to me now as then; and sometimes it seems as if I can see her just as plainly as I used to.�
Madge was silent a moment. Then, in a voice so low that it was barely audible, she said:
“You believe me to be a bad woman; how, then, can you talk to me of your mother?�
“I do not believe you to be a bad woman,� he replied calmly.
“You do not? You do not? Oh, say that again!� she cried out to him, and her voice did not sound natural even to herself.