"And they say she is quite a child, only eighteen. They say he only saw
her three times before he proposed to her. Do you think it is true?"

"Yes, it is quite true."

"He can't love her. They say he's only marrying her for her rank and her
money."

The woman turned quickly.

"What right have you to say that? No one but I know him. What need has he
of any one's rank or wealth? He is greater than them all! Older women may
have failed him; he has needed to turn to her beautiful, fresh, young life
to compensate him. She is a woman whom any man might have loved, so young
and beautiful; her family are famed for their intellect. If he trains her,
she may make him a better wife than any other woman would have done."

"Oh, but I can't bear it--I can't bear it!" The younger woman sat down in
the chair. "She will be his wife, and have his children."

"Yes." The elder woman moved quickly. "One wants to have the child, and
lay its head on one's breast and feed it." She moved quickly. "It would
not matter if another woman bore it, if one had it to take care of." She
moved restlessly.

"Oh, no, I couldn't bear it to be hers. When I think of her I feel as if I
were dying; all my fingers turn cold; I feel dead. Oh, you were only his
friend; you don't know!"