"I think she is a dear old thing," answered Grace; "but she always puts me in mind of some ivy or creeper that the wind has blown away from its support. She is one of the women who must have somebody to cling to, even if that somebody be tyranical and harsh like her brother."
"Yet, in his own way, he has been kind to us."
"Very much in his own way," said Grace, resentfully.
"I have a fancy about Mr. Sandford," Margaret said rather dreamily.
"You have generally nice fancies about most people, darling; tell your fancy to me."
"I suppose I do, but do you know, Margaret, that since I am happier, I mean since I have had so much affection from my husband and not felt like a boat without oars or rudder, or whatever the thing is that steers it, I feel ever so much kinder about every body--even about him. I am quite convinced that if somebody left me a large fortune I should become a striking instance of overpowering amiability."
"It is a problem I never can solve. I often wonder whether trial or prosperity softens people best."
"It depends upon the material; nothing would hurt you; but for me, I am a sort of acid, and more acid makes me into an explosive."
"My fancy about Mr. Sandford is that at one time in his life, perhaps when he was quite young, he has suffered, and cruelly suffered, from some terrible injustice."
"Another case of acids mixing and blowing up," said Grace, laughing; "he is in a perpetual state of effervescence."
"No, but seriously, Grace, he has a great deal of good in him, and his devotion to his wife shows he has warm affections somewhere, and he has always been kind to me."
"You win every one, even Paul. I know well that you were his first grand passion, and curiously enough I am not jealous."
"Who talks of jealousy?" said a voice from below, and Paul, his cigar nearly ended, came under the window.
"I am merely saying, dear," said Grace in her most melting accents, "that, though you once were madly in love with Margaret, I am _not_ jealous."
And laughing, Grace escaped to her own room. Margaret remained at the window. She was moved by what Grace had repeated to her about her child; yes, better to have lost it here than to have seen it that....
And Grace was really very happy. Paul was most kind and good, and there was more manliness about him now than she had ever thought him capable of; and yet, she said to herself, that for her to give her whole heart, to have such an affection for any one, such as Grace had for her husband, there must be higher qualities.