“Sit down. Yes, it is quite true.”
“Oh, it is so terrible, and I didn’t know anything! Did you ever say anything to him?” She caught the woman’s hands.
“I never saw him again after the day you were here,—so I could not speak to him,—but I did what I could.” She stood looking passively into the fire.
“And they say she is quite a child, only eighteen. They say he only saw her three times before he proposed to her. Do you think it is true?”
“Yes, it is quite true.”
“He can’t love her. They say he’s only marrying her for her rank and her money.”
The woman turned quickly.
“What right have you to say that? No one but I know him. What need has he of any one’s rank or wealth? He is greater than them all! Older women may have failed him; he has needed to turn to her beautiful, fresh, young life to compensate him. She is a woman whom any man might have loved, so young and beautiful; her family are famed for their intellect. If he trains her, she may make him a better wife than any other woman would have done.”
“Oh, but I can’t bear it—I can’t bear it!” The younger woman sat down in the chair. “She will be his wife, and have his children.”
“Yes.” The elder woman moved quickly. “One wants to have the child, and lay its head on one’s breast and feed it.” She moved quickly. “It would not matter if another woman bore it, if one had it to take care of.” She moved restlessly.