"What makes me so sure? Why, everything. I know there is not another man in the whole world for me that can possibly equal him, and then--I feel as if my whole life were full of him. I can't seem to remember much before he came. When I look back, it is like looking into the dark, and I can't imagine the world being at all without him." "Would you be willing to be very poor, to go without pretty things if you--married him, to live in a house like the Ramsey's on the other side of the river, not to have enough to eat and drink and wear?" "I would have enough to eat and drink and wear. I would have as much as a queen if I had him," cried Evelyn. "What do you think I care about pretty things, or even food and life itself, when it comes to anything like this? Live in a house like the Ramsey's! I would live in a cave. I would live on the street, and I should never know it was not a palace. Maria, you do know that I love him, don't you?" "Yes, I know that you think you do." "No, say I do." "Yes, I know you do," Maria said. Then Evelyn lay down again, and wept quietly. "Yes, I love him," she moaned, "but he does not love me. You don't think he does, do you? I know you don't." Maria said nothing. She was sure that he did not. "No, he does not. I see you know it," Evelyn sobbed, "and all I cared about going to the Christmas-tree and wearing my new gown was on account of him, and I sent a beautiful book. I thought I could do that. All the girls in the senior class gave him something, and I have been saving up every cent, and he never gave me anything, not even a box of candy or flowers. Do you think he gave any of the other girls anything, Maria?" "I don't think so." "I can't help hoping he did not. And I don't believe it is so very wicked, because I know that none of the other girls can possibly love him as much as I do. But, Maria--" "Well?" "I do love him enough not to complain if he really loved some other girl, and she was good, and would make him happy. I would go down on my knees to her to love him. I would, Maria, honest." Evelyn was almost hysterical. Maria soothed her, and evaded as well as she was able her repeated little, piteous questions as to whether she thought Mr. Lee could ever care for her. "I know I am pretty," Evelyn said naively. "I really think I must be prettier than any other girl in school. I have heard so, and I really think so myself, but being pretty means so little when it comes to anything like this with a man like him. He might love Addie Hemingway instead of me, so far as looks were concerned, but I don't think Addie would make him very happy--do you, Maria?" "No, dear. I am quite sure he will never think of her. Now try and be quiet and go to sleep." "I cannot go to sleep," moaned Evelyn, but it was not very long before she was drawing long, even breaths. Her youth had asserted itself. Then, too, she had got certain comfort from this baring of her soul before the soothing love of her sister.