"Ruth, when is the last time you ever really talked to another woman?" asked Molly. "You know, not just gossip or small talk, but really talked?"

Ruth took a sip of coffee and thought for a minute. "I've never really had anyone to talk to. My mother and I were not close, and I had no sisters. And Edwin's family were, well there were just too many of them with big families to find time for that sort of thing. I've never really ever confided in anyone before." Ruth put her hand to her mouth and turned her head aside. Then she looked back at Molly. "I don't think I can do this. I don't know where to begin."

"Well, maybe just start at the beginning. What about when you were growing up?"

Ruth began hesitantly at first to tell Molly her sad and revealing saga. She had been born in India, where her father had been teaching at a university. And she had lived there most of her young life in a comfortable home with servants. Her mother had looked down on the servants and had refused to go anywhere near where they might congregate. She never allowed them to touch her or Rose.

Once, one of the maids had come begging Ruth's mother, Martha, to come and see her sick child. Martha had refused. She would not set foot in those filthy hovels. Several days later, Ruth had heard that the child had died. Her mother maintained that servants and the poor were dirty and that was that. These were the kinds of lessons that Martha instilled in her daughter. Once when Ruth was caught playing with the children of the cook, she was punished and the cook dismissed.

Ruth lacked affection from both her parents and she never saw any warmth between them. Their marriage had been a business arrangement, and Ruth a sad consequence from a lapse in their moral values.

When Ruth was 17, her family went back to the states, stopping to visit friends in England. When they first arrived they were staying at a home in the country. Every morning Ruth would sneak out to the stables to visit the horses. She even brought carrots for them. She got a wonderful warm feeling when she petted their velvety noses and saw the gentle look in their huge eyes. One such morning, a stable boy was working with the horses. He was a tall thin boy of about 20. After a few minutes, he asked Ruth if she would like to see a new horse. The unsuspecting Ruth followed him into another barn.

It was there that he attacked her. The young man, with shaggy blond hair and bloodshot blue eyes was sent away immediately. But Ruth never forgot what he looked like or what he had done to her. Ruth's parents blamed her for putting herself in a compromising position and she was assured that no decent man would ever want her.

Ruth stopped talking and put her head in her hands. Her body became racked with sobs. The sounds came from the very depths of her soul. In her mind she could hear her clothes being ripped, the rough hands touching her and the dirty blond hair hanging in her face. In a rush, that terrible morning all came back to her.

Molly watched for a minute as Ruth's body shook and then she got up, stood behind her and began stroking her hair and patting her shoulder as one would a child.

Ruth began to speak in a strangled sounding voice. "Oh my poor Rose, my poor baby. She will be so hurt."

"Whose gonna hurt her?" asked Molly. Between sobs, Ruth managed to get out, "The stable boy. My poor Rose."

As Molly tried to quiet her, something dawned in her mind. She knew that Ruth truly hated Jack and figured that he was the root of all her problems. Now Molly was wondering if she had finally found the cause of the problem. In her hysteria just now Ruth had blurted out that the stable boy would hurt Rose. Could it be in her contorted ideas of what had happened to her that she was taking the figure of her attacker and placing Jack's face on him? From Ruth's description they had some similar physical features. But clearly that was where the resemblance ended. Jack was clean, refined and respectful. But Ruth was too agitated right now to try and have this explained to her.

"Ruth," said Molly, "You've got to calm down. You're gonna wear yourself out. I know this is hard, but when it's over, you'll be glad you relieved yourself of this burden.

Ruth's breathing slowed and the crying stopped. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Of course not, your secret is safe. But I think you owe it to Rose to tell her someday." Ruth looked stunned. "How can I tell her this?" "Well she is an adult now. I think she can handle it. And besides if you are ever going to have a real relationship with her, she has to understand you and know the truth."

Ruth thought about this for a minute and then said, "Maybe, but I'm not ready ... and besides, do you think we can ever have a real relationship? We had so many unpleasant exchanges lately, even on the ship. Rose is so headstrong. What if she wants nothing to do with me? And truthfully I don't know if I can ever accept her ... her…..husband." It was as if Ruth had almost choked on the last word.

Suddenly Ruth was filled with anger again and the pitch of her voice rose. "Since Rose is not of legal age, someone must have signed that marriage license. Was that your part in all this?" Molly nodded quietly. Ruth shouted at her, "You know I could have the marriage annulled for that and have that, that good for nothing sent on his way!"

Molly pursed her lips and closed her eyes for a minute. Then she looked at Ruth and spoke firmly, "But you won't, because if you do that two things are certain. One, that is a guarantee to drive Rose away from you forever and two, much as I feel sorry for you, I won't lift a finger to help you."

Ruth was now standing and she turned her back to Molly. "How can my life have taken a turn like this. What do I do now?" she asked herself. She realized that she was beaten on all sides. Then she spoke again to Molly, much more meekly this time, "All right Molly, I'm sorry. I won't hurt Rose by doing that. I'll just have to learn to live with this somehow."

Molly nodded and said, "I know this is difficult for you, that you are having a hard time with this. But what I can't make you understand is that Rose and Jack have a special kind of love. They aren't afraid of facing what lies ahead. I think they knew they were meant for each other, the first time they met. Maybe when you see them together Ruth, and see how happy they are, how full of hope they are and how Jack treats her, maybe you'll begin to understand."

Molly looked at Ruth waiting for her to say something.

Finally Ruth said, "What can someone like Jack Dawson know about taking care of Rose?"

For the first time since she and Ruth began talking, Molly finally had a tiny glimmer of hope. In her last comment, Ruth had not used a derogatory term to prefix Jack's name. "There just might be a chance for all this , if I have enough time to work on her."

Listen, Ruth," she said, "You don't know anything about Jack, let me tell you…..