“But you could have prevented it! He couldn’t have got the divorce from you. Didn’t he know that?” “Of course he knew it,” she answered, in the petulant tone she often used to Mauma. “He’s a man thoroughly informed on every subject. He knew he could never get it, and that the only way was for me to do it. He made a great mistake, though, and gave himself and me six miserable months of suffering.” “How do you mean?” “He tried to force me to sue for a divorce,” she said; “and used every means that he could think of. My friends were wildly excited, and demanded that I should get the divorce, but they might as well have talked into the air. I had but one answer: ‘I love him--love him--do you understand? And there is nothing love cannot forgive!’” “Love--yes,” retorted Mrs. Bryan, now no longer able to control her indignation. “Love is all very well--but where is your pride?” The tiny creature standing on the rug drew herself to her full height, and looked her in the eyes, as she answered: “I have none, where he is concerned.” “Merciful goodness!” exclaimed the other, with a deep-drawn breath. “Then if you haven’t any pride, what induced you to agree to the divorce?” “Love,” said the other, solemnly. “If he had understood that--if he had made that appeal at first--he might have had his way in the beginning, instead of the end. If, instead of subjecting me to all the shame and outrage that he made me endure, he had done at first what he did at last, he might have spared himself as well as me much suffering.” “You don’t mean to say you consented because----”