“No,” retorted Virginia bitterly, “it merely makes it legal.”

“Legal?”

“Yes, lecherous old men of eighty marry girls in their teens—­but does that make their relations right?  Avaricious young men in their twenties marry women in their fifties.  Does marriage make their relations right?  In some States white women can marry black men—­marry them just as properly as you and I are married—­but does marriage make their relations right?  No, marriage merely makes them legal.”

“Do you mean to tell me that if a woman has a marriage certificate—­”

“Precisely.  She has documentary evidence that she is lawfully entitled to live with a man—­that’s all.  A marriage certificate has nothing to do with the morality of marriage!  Nothing!”

“Then what has?”

“Love—­and self-respect,” said Virginia.  “The legal thing isn’t always the right thing, and if I am ever forced to choose between what is legal and what is right I shall choose what is right.”

“Are you going to do—­anything?”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” stammered Fanny.  She was rather afraid of her impulsive little sister.  She might do something rash—­something that would hurt them all.  Anxiously she said: 

“And yet I feel that you are going to do something.  Aren’t you?”

Virginia made no reply and she repeated: 

“Tell me—­whatever it is—­promise that you won’t do anything rash.”

“I can promise that freely enough,” replied Virginia with a sad smile.

“I’m so glad!” exclaimed Fanny with a gesture of relief and starting forward to embrace her sister.

Virginia raised her hand.  Quickly she said: 

“And you—­you too, must promise me something.”

“What?”

“Promise me whatever happens, that you will never tell Jimmie about—­Robert—­and me.”

“Very well.”

“If you do, I shall never forgive you!  Never!”

“I won’t.”

“Whatever happens—­remember!”

“Then something is going to happen?” demanded Fanny.

“That depends,” said Virginia evasively.

“Oh, I’m so worried!” exclaimed Fanny.  “I couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about you.  I was so nervous that I kept James awake too.  I’m glad you’re not going to do anything rash.”

Before Virginia could reply there came a loud knock at the door.

“Come in!” cried Virginia.

The door opened and Jimmie entered, cheerful and debonair as usual.

“Morning, Virgie!” he chuckled.

“Good morning,” she replied gravely.

“Just dropped in to say good-bye before I hike along.”

“I’m glad you did,” she smiled amiably.

“We’ve had a bully little visit.”  Turning to his wife, he said:  “Haven’t we, Fanny?”

“Yes, indeed,” she smiled.

“Great finish too,” he chuckled, “what with my raise and the car.”