‘He is a lucky man to have such a warm little champion,’ said she.

Her strong character and greater knowledge of the world gave her an ascendency over the girlish wife such as age has over youth.  There were not ten years between them, and yet Maude felt that for some reason the conversation between them could not quite be upon equal terms.  The quiet assurance of her visitor, whatever its cause, made resentment or remonstrance difficult.  Besides, they were a pair of very kindly as well as of very shrewd eyes which now looked down into hers.

‘You love him very much, then?’

‘Of course I love him.  He is my husband.’

‘Does it always follow?’

‘You are married yourself.  Don’t you love yours?’

’Oh, never mind mine.  He’s all right.  Did you ever love any one else?’

‘No, not really.’

Maude was astonished at herself, and yet the questions were so frankly put that a frank answer came naturally to them.  It pleased her to lose that cold chill of dislike, and to feel that for some reason her strange visitor had become more friendly to her.

‘You lucky girl, you actually married the one love of your life!’

Maude smiled and nodded.

’What a splendid thing to do!  I thought it only happened in books.  How happy you must be!’

‘I am very, very happy.’

’Well, I dare say you deserve to be.  Besides, you really are very pretty.  If ever you had a rival, I should think that it must be some consolation to her to know that it was so charming a person who cut her out.’

Maude laughed at the thought.

‘I never had a rival,’ said she.  ’My husband never really loved until he met me.’

’Did he—­oh yes, quite so!  That is so nice that you should both start with a clean sheet!  I thought you were very handsome just now when you were angry with me, but you are quite delightful with that little flush upon your cheeks.  If I had been a man, your husband would certainly have had one rival in his wooing.  And so he really never loved any one but you?  I thought that also only happened in books.’

There was a hard and ironic tone in the last sentences which jarred upon Maude’s sensitive nature.  She glanced up quickly and was surprised at the look of pain which had come upon her companion’s face.  It relaxed into a serious serenity.

‘That fits in beautifully,’ said she.  ’But there’s one bit of advice which I should like to give you, if you won’t think it a liberty.  Don’t be selfish in your married life.’

‘Selfish!’

’Yes, there is a kind of family selfishness which is every bit as bad—­I am not sure that it is not worse—­than personal selfishness.  People love each other, and they shut out the world, and have no thought for any one else, and the whole universe can slide to perdition so long as their love is not disturbed.  That is what I call family selfishness.  It’s a sin and a shame.’