"She's tired from the journey. How pretty she is growing, Enid. She will be extraordinarily pretty when she is grown-up. She will be exactly what you were."
"No one ever thought me pretty, except you, mother."
"Nonsense, dear. Everyone admired you. You were enormously admired."
"Then there was something wanting," said Enid bitterly. "I hadn't the charms that have lasting power."
But Mrs. Marsden would not allow the conversation to take an awkward turn.
"And Jane looks so well," she went on cheerfully. "Such limbs—and such a weight! She is a glorious child. She does you credit, dear. You have every reason to be proud of her—and you will be prouder and prouder, in the time to come."
"I hope so—I pray so. I shall have nothing else to be proud of."
Once or twice, while the child was sleeping, Enid glided from obvious hints to a bald statement, in spite of all Mrs. Marsden's endeavours to restrain her.
"Mother, my life is insupportable;" and tears began to flow. "Mother dear, can't you help me?"
"My darling, how can I? I have told you of my difficulties—but you don't dream, you would never guess what they are."