"
The remembrance of her own loveless marriage stung Magdalen to the
quick.
"For God's sake, don't kneel to _me!_" she cried, passionately. "If
there is a degraded woman in this room, I am the woman--not you!"
She raised the girl by main force from her knees, and put her back in
the chair. They both waited a little in silence. Keeping her hand
on Louisa's shoulder, Magdalen seated herself again, and looked with
unutterable bitterness of sorrow into the dying fire. "Oh," she thought,
"what happy women there are in the world! Wives who love their husbands!
Mothers who are not ashamed to own their children! Are you quieter?" she
asked, gently addressing Louisa once more. "Can you answer me, if I ask
you something else? Where is the child?"
"The child is out at nurse."
"Does the father help to support it?"
"He does all he can, ma'am."
"What is he? Is he in service? Is he in a trade?"
"His father is a master-carpenter--he works in his father's yard."
"If he has got work, why has he not married you?"
"It is his father's fault, ma'am--not his. His father has no pity on us.
He would be turned out of house and home if he married me."
"Can he get no work elsewhere?"
"It's hard to get good work in London, ma'am.
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