‘Tell me—­give me what help you can.’

’Life seems so bitter to you that you are in despair.  Yet isn’t it your duty to live as though some hope were before you?’

Monica gazed in uncertainty.

‘You mean—­’ she faltered.

’I think you will understand.  I am not speaking of your husband.  Whether you have duties to him or not I can’t say; that is for your own mind and heart to determine.  But isn’t it true that your health has a graver importance than if you yourself only were concerned?’

‘Yes—­you have understood me—­’

’Isn’t it your duty to remember at every moment that your thoughts, your actions, may affect another life—­that by heedlessness, by abandoning yourself to despair, you may be the cause of suffering it was in your power to avert?’

Herself strongly moved, Rhoda had never spoken so impressively, had never given counsel of such earnest significance.  She felt her power in quite a new way, without touch of vanity, without posing or any trivial self-consciousness.  When she least expected it an opportunity had come for exerting the moral influence on which she prided herself, and which she hoped to make the ennobling element of her life.  All the better that the case was one calling for courage, for contempt of vulgar reticences; the combative soul in her became stronger when faced by such conditions.  Seeing that her words were not in vain, she came nearer to Monica and spoke yet more kindly.

‘Why do you encourage that fear of your life coming to an end?’

’It’s more a hope than a fear—­at most times.  I can see nothing before me.  I don’t wish to live.’

’That’s morbid.  It isn’t yourself that speaks, but your trouble.  You are young and strong, and in a year’s time very much of this unhappiness will have passed.’

’I have felt it like a certainty—­as if it had been foretold to me—­ever since I knew—­’

’I think it very likely that young wives have often the same dread.  It is physical, Monica, and in your case there is so little relief from dark brooding.  But again you must think of your responsibility.  You will live, because the poor little life will need your care.’

Monica turned her head away and moaned.

‘I shall not love my child.’

’Yes, you will.  And that love, that duty, is the life to which you must look forward.  You have suffered a great deal, but after such sorrow as yours there comes quietness and resignation.  Nature will help you.’

’Oh, if you could give me some of your strength!  I have never been able to look at life as you do.  I should never have married him if I hadn’t been tempted by the thoughts of living easily—­and I feared so—­that I might always be alone—­My sisters are so miserable; it terrified me to think of struggling on through life as they do—­’

’Your mistake was in looking only at the weak women.  You had other examples before you—­girls like Miss Vesper and Miss Haven, who live bravely and work hard and are proud of their place in the world.  But it’s idle to talk of the past, and just as foolish to speak as if you were sorrowing without hope.  How old are you, Monica?’