And Ellen's reception of the news justified her
fears.
"And you'd take him that way!" she said, scornfully. "You'd hide
behind him, besides spoiling his life for him! It sounds like him
to offer, and it's like you to accept."
"It's to save mother," said Edith, meekly.
"It's to save yourself. You can't fool me. And if you think I'm
going to sit by and let him do it, you can think again."
"It's as good as done," Edith flashed. "I've told mother."
"That you're going to be, or that you are?"
"That we are married."
"All right," Ellen said triumphantly. "She's quiet and peaceful
now, isn't she? You don't have to get married now, do you? You
take my advice, and let it go at that."
It was then that Edith realized what she had done. He would still
marry her, of course, but behind all his anxiety to save her had
been the real actuating motive of his desire to relieve her mother's
mind. That was done now. Then, could she let him sacrifice himself
for her?
She could. She could and she would. She set her small mouth firmly,
and confronted the future; she saw herself, without his strength to
support her, going down and down. She remembered those drabs of the
street on whom she had turned such cynical eyes in her virtuous youth,
and she saw herself one of that lost sisterhood, sodden, hectic,
hopeless.
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