It was a very hard question for her mother to answer, who knew full well that Penloe had unintentionally made an impression on her daughter's heart that time could never efface, and she had refrained from saying much in praise of Penloe, for she knew that it would only be adding fuel to a very great flame, which it would be impossible for Stella to quench. She knew that Stella had seen in Penloe a young man greatly beyond her expectations; even beyond her ideal. Penloe lived in a world that Stella had only just a faint conception of. It was his intellect, his exceptionally fine personality, manifested in such a fine, manly form she admired. But, above all, Stella could see that he had emptied himself of all save love. And that was so broad, so deep, so far reaching, so universal in its sympathies, that it stirred her whole nature. Mrs. Wheelwright said: "I think my daughter has lost something." "Yes," said Stella, "I lost it when Penloe delivered his sermon on that Sunday at church, for I saw in him more than I ever dreamed of seeing in any man, and when I went up and thanked him for his address, and those discerning spiritual eyes of his looked so deeply and searchingly into mine, that he read my secret." Mrs. Wheelwright went to Stella and pressed her to herself, and kissed her many times. After awhile Stella said: "Mother, what I want to find in a man is true companionship. Now, look at the young men in Orangeville. There are a very few that are kind, steady young men, but then not one of them would be any companion to me. I don't want to listen to horse talk, or cattle talk, or hog talk, or some old back East yarns all the time. They all live in the social and domestic world; there is nothing intellectual about them; they are not moved by any broad, grand, sweeping, noble impulses. Their ranch, their home, and the excitement of their barterings and dickerings, and the doings of a few of their neighbors constitute the world they live in. And most of them think all that a woman is good for, is to cook, wash, and raise babies. And mother, I told you what kind of young men I met in Roseland; now, they are a sample of the top notch of society. All that many of them want is just the use of a young lady as a toy. And when they use up the flower, like the bee, they go to another. As for real manly worth, interesting, intelligent companionship, it is badly wanting in many of them. Some very few are much better than the rest. "You know, dear mother, it is not that I want to know a man as a man, but it is natural that I should want and love an interesting male companion. When I think what Penloe is, and then think how little and insignificant I am, a mere child beside him, and only about four years difference in our ages, it makes me feel discouraged."