Part 93 (1/2)
”He wants me to go back to him.”
”Yes?” anxiously.
”Well---- That's all.”
”But you, dearest?”
”Oh, I can't _bear_ to think of it!” cries t.i.ta, in a miserable tone.
At this Margaret feels hope dying within her. Beyond question she has again refused to be reconciled to him. Margaret is so fond of the girl that it goes to her very heart to see her thus wilfully (as she believes) throwing away her best chance of happiness in this world.
”t.i.ta, have you well considered what you are doing? A woman separated from her husband, no matter how free from blame she may be, is always regarded with coldness by----”
”Oh, yes! I know,” impatiently. _”He_ has been saying all that.”
”And, after all, what has Maurice done that you should be so hard with him? Many a man has loved another woman before his marriage.
That old story----”
”It isn't that,” says t.i.ta suddenly. ”It is”--she lays her hands on Margaret's shoulders, and regards her earnestly and with agitation--”it is that I fear _myself.”_
”You fear”--uncertainly--”that you don't love him?”
”Pshaw!” says t.i.ta, letting her go, and rising to her feet, as though to sit still is impossible to her. ”What a speech from you to me--you, who know all! _Love_ him! I am sure about that, at all events. I know I don't.”
”Are you so sure?”
”Positive--_positive!”_
”What? Not even _one_ doubt?”
”Not one.”
”What is your fear, then?” asks Margaret.
”That even if I went back to him, took up my old position, asked his guests to our house, and so on, that sooner or later I should quarrel with him a second time, and then this dreadful work would have to be done all over again.”
”That would rest in your own hands. Of course, it is a risk, if, indeed, you mean what you say, t.i.ta”--watching her closely--”that you do not care for Maurice. But”--anxiously--”at all events, you do not care for anyone else?”
”No--no--no” petulantly--”why should I? I think all men more trouble than they are worth.”
”If that is so, and you are heart-whole, I think it your positive duty to live with your husband,” says Margaret, with decision. ”How can you hesitate, t.i.ta? Are the vows you uttered at the altar nothing to you? Many a woman lives with a bad husband through conscientious motives, and----”
”I don't believe it,” says t.i.ta, who is evidently in one of her most wayward moods. ”They go on living with their horrid husbands because they are afraid of what people will say about them. You know you said something about it yourself just now, and so did--_he;_ something about the world being disagreeable to any woman, however good, who is separated from the man she married.”
Margaret gives up the argument.
”Well,” says she, smiling, ”at all events, Maurice isn't a horrid husband.”
”You say that because he isn't yours,” with a shrug.