"Madge--" She was about to say something sensible when the maid interrupted her again.
"And it is I who have brought it all on him!" she wailed.

"If it had not been for me--" Her mother laid a firm hand on her daughter's mouth.

It was not often that she felt the superior of the two; yet here was a time, plain enough, when maturity and experience must take the reins.
"Madge," she said, "it is plain you do not love him; or you never--" The maid started back, her eyes ablaze.
"Not love him! Why--" "That you do not love him truly; or you would never have wished this for him....

Now listen to me!" She raised an admonitory finger, complacent at last.

But her speech was not to be made at that time; for her daughter swiftly rose to her feet, controlled at last by the shock of astonishment.
"Then I do not think you know what love is," she said softly.