s when he is first wed; because he can guess
reasonable well that the maid might not have chose him her own self.
But it does not do to keep it up. Thou must mind thy ways, child."

Clarice was almost holding her breath. Whether horror or disgust were
the feeling uppermost in her mind, she would have found difficult to
tell. Was this her mother, who gave her such counsel? And were all
women like that? _One_ other distinct idea was left to her--that there
was an additional reason for dying--to get out of it all.

"Thou art but a simple lass, I can see," reflectively added Dame La
Theyn. "Thou hast right the young lass's notions touching truth, and
faith, and constancy, and such like. All a parcel of moonshine, child!
There is no such thing, not in this world. Some folks be a bit worse
than others, but that's all. I dare reckon thy knight is one of the
better end. At any rate, thou wilt find it comfortable to think so."

Clarice was inwardly convinced that Vivian belonged to the scrag end, so
far as character went.

"That's the true way to get through the world, child. Shut thy eyes to
whatever thou wouldst not like to see. Nobody'll admire thee more for
having red rims to 'em. And, dear heart, where's the good? 'Tis none
but fools break their hearts. Wise folks jog on jollily. And if
there's somewhat to forgive on the one side, why, there'll be somewhat
on the other. Thou art not an angel--don't fancy it. And if he isn't
neither--"

Of that fact Clarice felt superlatively convinced.

"The best way is not to expect it of him, and thou wilt be the less
disappointed. So get out thy ribbons and busk thee, and let's have no
more tears shed. There's been a quart too much already."

A slight movement of nervous impatience was the sole reply.

"Eh, Clarice? Ne'er a word, trow?"

Then she turned round a wan, set, distressed face, with fervent
determination glowing in the eyes.

"Mother! I would rather die, and be out of it!"

"Be out of what, quotha?" demanded Dame La Theyn, in astonished tones.

"This world," said Clarice, through her set teeth. "This hard, cold,
cruel, miserable, wicked world. Is there only one of two lives before
me--either to harden into stone and crush other hearts, or to be crushed
by the others that have got hard before me? Oh, Mother, Mother! is
there nothing in the world for a woman but _that_?--God, let me die
before I come to either!"

"Deary, deary, deary me!" s