felt what she said; it was honest criticism of herself. But she was not shocked at it; she was only interested. She told herself that there were forces against which it was idle to struggle, and did not propose to do anything so useless.
"And it is all so utterly mean," she said. "I, we, deliberately take advantage of Maud's immense generosity, and, though I have begun to doubt it now, her incapacity of thinking evil of those she loves. Yet I don't really doubt that; I think she knows that we are in love with each other, and is merely dreadfully sorry for us."
"Ah, then, I expect that you are dancing on a volcano," said Madge. "I know Maud, too, and know that she is the soul of generosity and kindliness. But, dear Lucia, I know woman, the genus, better than you, and you are taking an impossible view of things. A woman can no more give her husband up, if she loves him, to another woman than she could throw her baby on to the fire. The situation is one you must put an end to. And Edgar: if Maud has seen, are you sure he has not? He loves you, you know, as Maud loves Charlie, and there is a terrible clairvoyance about love, which enables it with startling and disconcerting improbability to see straight through a brick wall. And this isn't a brick wall. It is more like a pane of plate-glass, which we can all see through without any clairvoyance at all."
Lucia still retained a great deal of respect for her friend's wisdom. She had certainly managed her life—though Lucia did not intend to ask any more questions about that—with extreme tact, and though a moment before Lucia had declared that to give anything up was impossible, she felt she would like a little more advice on the subject.
"What would you do, then?" she asked.
"I'm afraid it will sound unpalatable."
"Advice usually does," said Lucia. "Good advice, anyhow."
"Well, I know my advice is good, and it answers the test of being unpalatable. You must act with great finesse, because, if you seem suddenly to quarrel with Charlie, a construction will be put by both Maud and Edgar on to your late intimacy which it is your whole desire to avert."
"Ah, that is wise," said Lucia, finding some prospective comfort.
"Yes, dear; of course it is, because I am not a fool," remarked Madge. "You must let your public manner to him. be still a
