be suppressing her feelings. Then, laying a hand on Helène’s gloved ones, she bent over and in a softened voice said:
“My child, you cannot and should not expect that from me. Ten years ago when I married I was a blooming, fresh girl like you are, though, perhaps, not quite so attractive. Look at me now. See what those ten years have done for me.”
She stood up and stretched out her arms. It was a pathetic gesture.
“My husband is a kind and good man. He has his work to do and his studies. But the romance of his life—so far, at least as I can affect it, has gone out of him. Look at me and you will see what the drudgery of household duties, the care of children, the worry of making both ends meet, have made of me. My youth has departed from me, and with it have gone all the joy I have known and all the beauty I ever possessed.