"I don't give up to him," said Jacqueline in a colourless voice.
Cynthia looked at her gravely:
"It's hard to know what to do, dear. When a girl gives up to a man she spoils him sometimes; when she doesn't she sometimes spoils him. It's hard to know what to do—very hard."
Jacqueline's gaze grew troubled and remote.
"How to love a man wisely—that's a very hard thing for a girl to learn," murmured Cynthia. "But—the main thing—the important thing, is to love him, I think. And I suppose we have to take our chances of spoiling him."
"The main thing," said Jacqueline slowly, "is that he should know you do love him; isn't it?"
"Yes. But the problem is, how best to show it. And that requires wisdom, dear. And where is a girl to acquire that kind of wisdom? What experience has she? What does she know? Ah, we don't know. There lies the trouble. By instinct, disposition, natural reticence, and training, we are disposed to offer too little, perhaps; But often, in fear that our reticence may not be understood, we offer too much."
"I—am afraid of that."
"Of offering too much?"