Her sympathy would not allow her to tell all the
London doctor had said to her about her young sister-in-law; neither
would it allow her to be untruthful. But certain phrases he had used came
back to her with tragic intensity.
"Many a woman who can recuperate almost miraculously from organic disease
fails to rally from shock--we've been overlooking that too long."--"Every
sleepless night undoes the good that the sunshine during the daytime has
wrought, and after many sleepless nights the days become simply horrible
preludes to more terrors."--"I can't drug a child like that to a long
life of uselessness--make her as happy as you can, but let her have it
over with as quickly as Nature will allow it--or take her to some other
man--I can't in charity to her tell you anything else."
So Sylvia and Peter made her "as happy as they could," and that they
hoped at times was very happy, indeed; but the look of dread never left
her eyes for long, and the tired smile which had replaced her ringing
laugh came less and less often to her pale lips.
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