"Edie, if you'd only tell me where I've failed! If you're thinking of our--our separation--" "I was not. But, since you _have_ mentioned it, I can't help reminding you that you fell in love with Walter because you thought he was a saint. And so I don't see what's to prevent you now. He's qualifying. He mayn't be perfect; but, in some ways, a saint couldn't very well do more. Has it never occurred to that you are indulging the virtue that comes easiest to you, and exacting from him the virtue that comes hardest? And he has stood the test." "It was his own doing--his own wish." "Is it? I doubt it--when he's more in love with you than he was before he married you." "That's all over." "For you. Not for him. He's a man, as you may say, of obstinate affections." "Ah, Edie--you don't know." "I know," said Edith, "you're perfectly sweet, the way you take my scoldings. It's cowardly of me, when I'm lying here safe, and you can't scold back again. But I wouldn't do it if I didn't love you." "I know--I know you love me." "But I couldn't love you so much, if I didn't love Walter more." "You well may, Edie. He's been a good brother to you." "Some day you'll own he's been as good a husband as he's been a brother. Better; for it's a more difficult post, my dear. I don't really think my body, spine and all, can have tried him more than your spirit." "What have I done? Tell me--tell me." "Done? Oh, Nancy, I hate to have to say it to you. What haven't you done? There's no way in which you haven't hurt and humiliated him. I'm not thinking of your separation--I'm thinking of the way you've treated him, and his affection for you and Peggy. You won't let him love you. You won't even let him love his little girl." "Does he say that?" "Would he say it? People in my peculiar position don't require to have things said to them; they _say them_. You see, if I didn't say them now I should have to get up out of my grave and do it, and that would be ten times more disagreeable for you. It might even be very uncomfortable for me." "Edie, I wish I knew when you were serious." "Well, if I'm not serious now, when _shall_ I be?" Anne smiled. "You're very like Walter." "Yes. He's every bit as serious as I am. And he's getting more and more serious every day." "Oh, Edie, you don't understand. I--I've suffered so terribly." "I do understand. I've gone through it--every pang of it--and it's all come back to me again through your suffering--and I know it's been worse for you. I've told him so. It's because I don't want you to suffer more that I'm saying these awful things to you." "Oh! _Am_ I to suffer more?" "I believe that's the only way your happiness can come to you--through great suffering. I'm only afraid that the suffering may come through Peggy, if you don't take care." "Peggy--" It was her own terror put into words.