MRS. PRYOR.
253
Mann, when she is most sourly and hypochondriacally disposed. This is terrible!"
"No, it is only true. Oh, child! you have only lived the pleasant morning time of life: the hot, weary noon, the sad evening, the sunless night are yet to come for you! Mr. Helstone, you say, talks as I talk; and I wonder how Mrs. Matthewson Helstone would have talked had she been living. She died! she died!"
"And, alas! my own mother and father. . . . ." exclaimed Caroline, struck by a sombre recollection.
"What of them?"
"Did I never tell you that they were separated?"
"I have heard it."
"They must then have been very miserable."
"You see all facts go to prove what I say."
"In this case there ought to be no such thing as marriage."
"There ought, my dear, were it only to prove that this life is a mere state of probation, wherein neither rest nor recompense is to be vouchsafed."
"But your own marriage, Mrs. Pryor?"
Mrs. Pryor shrunk and shuddered as if a rude finger had pressed a naked nerve: Caroline felt she had touched what would not bear the slightest contact.
"My marriage was unhappy," said the lady, summoning courage at last; "but yet
" she hesitated.