"Don't cry!" she whispered. "Oh, Millie, don't cry!"
"Oh," the woman whimpered, "he'll think me an ugly thing, Aggie. He'll think me a skinny thing. If I'd only got here in time, if I'd only looked right, he might have loved me still. But he won't love me no more—after to-day!"
"Hush, Millie! He's only a kid. He don't know nothing about—such things."
"Only a kid," said the mother, according to the perverted experience of her life, "but still a man!"
"He wouldn't care."
"They all care!"
Indeed, this was her view; and by her knowledge of the world she spoke.
"Not him," said Aggie.
The mother was infinitely distressed. "Oh," she moaned, "if I'd only had time to pad!"
This was the greater tragedy of her situation: that she misunderstood.