But you don't think, Mrs.March, that I was unjust or--or hasty ?" "No, indeed! You couldn't have done differently under the circumstances.
You may be sure he felt that--he is so unselfish and generous--" Agatha began to weep into her handkerchief again; Mrs.March caressed her hand.
"And it will certainly come right if you feel as you do." "No," the girl protested.

"He can never forgive me; it's all over, everything is over.

It would make very little difference to me, what happened now--if the steamer broke her shaft, or anything.

But if I can only believe I wasn't unjust--" Mrs.March assured her once more that she had behaved with absolute impartiality; and she proved to her by a process of reasoning quite irrefragable that it was only a question of time, with which place had nothing to do, when she and Burnamy should come together again, and all should be made right between them.

The fact that she did not know where he was, any more than Mrs.March herself, had nothing to do with the result; that was a mere detail, which would settle itself.