Mrs. Loamford rose and looked out into the street. She twisted the cord of the window shade.
“Perhaps you wonder why I’ve told you all these things,” she said finally. “Only because I wouldn’t be doing my duty as a mother if I didn’t tell you everything you ought to know. So many mothers neglect their duty to their children that way. They don’t tell them these things. They aren’t frank about marriage and what it means. That’s why there are so many unhappy marriages. Girls get married and then-"
“Well, it’s no wonder there’s so much unhappiness in the younger generation. That poor little McBride girl! You read about her in the paper, didn’t you? She was just swept off her feet by a good-looking young fellow. She married him—and then-"
Mrs. Loamford came close to Dorothy and looked about cautiously.
“The poor little girl didn’t know—that was all. That’s why I’ve told you all these things. When I was a girl, my mother wouldn’t have dreamed of telling me such things or even mentioning them to me.”
Mrs. Loamford opened the doors.
“That’s all,” she concluded. “I don’t think you need to know more than that—now. But you’re going to be faced with temptations in your work and I thought you ought to know—these things.”
Dorothy thanked her mother and went to her room. She rummaged among a pile of dusty books hidden in the back of the clothes closet. Finally she discovered the volume for which she had been searching. She opened it at the preface and smiled.
“Authorities differ,” the preface began, “as to the age at which direct sex instruction should be given to young girls. All agree, however, that the girl’s mother, if living,
[59]
