I should have thought you'd have had sorrow enough of your own, without trying to make it for other people.' The other winced.
'Well, of course, if you don't want to know the truth, you needn't.' Phoebe laughed.
'It isn't truth,' she said.

'But if it was--Did you want to know the truth about your father ?' Her white face, encircled by the child's arms, quivered as she spoke.
'Don't you abuse my father,' cried Bella, furiously.
Phoebe's eyes wavered and fell.
'I wasn't going to abuse him,' she said, in a choked voice.

'I was sorry for him--and for your mother.

But _you've_ got a hard, wicked heart--and I hope I'll never see you again, Miss Morrison.

I'll thank you, please, to leave my house.' The other drew down her veil with an affected smile and shrug.
'Good-bye, Mrs.Fenwick.Perhaps you'll find out before long that my friend wasn't such a fool to write that letter--and I wasn't such a beast to tell you--as you think now.