"You certainly deserve to." Linda sighed unconsciously. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if everybody could be made happy so easily! I believe that is the only satisfaction there is in the world, after all--making others happy, whether you are so yourself or not." Mrs. Porter came in and took another of the wicker chairs. "I don't believe you can avoid the latter if you do the former," she remarked. Linda regarded the speaker, a line appearing in her smooth brow. She often suspected Mrs. Porter to be thinking of Bertram. She had no right to ask impossibilities. The superhuman should not be required of the merely human. "It is easier said than done, though, as a usual thing," said the girl aloud. "There is one man in Chicago, for instance, to whom I owe much kindness, whom I couldn't make happy except by marrying him." "Not Bertram," returned Mrs. Porter quickly. "Of course not Bertram," said Linda coolly. "It may be some relief to you to know that Bertram no longer wishes that," said Mrs. Porter, after a moment of silence. Linda's lip curled as she kept her lazy attitude, her hands clasped behind her dark head. "Of course not," she repeated. "Bertram may make business mistakes occasionally, but he will not commit that of marrying a poor girl." "Linda!" ejaculated Mrs. Porter. Color rushed over her face and she waited a moment to gain control. "How can you insult him in his troubles!" she finished. "Please forgive me," returned the girl in the same tone. "It is the hardest thing in the world for me to remember your relationship." "Your thinking it is quite as bad as saying it." "Be fair to me, dear Mrs. Porter. You can't blame me for not having illusions, after my sledgehammer blows." "You can feel compassion instead of hatred, if any one has wronged you." "That isn't human nature." "Of course not. We have to learn that we can't have any respect for human nature. Spiritual nature is the only thing we must nurture. We don't have to take care of punishing those who have wronged us. 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.' In other words, the working of spiritual law brings inevitable punishment to all who violate it. We may well exercise compassion instead of hatred to wrongdoers. If Bertram has, humanly speaking, deserved all the contempt you send him, you can well afford to feel more kindly toward him than before. Nothing but his own repentance and amends can end his punishment; and rest assured you do not need to add to it." "Mrs. Porter,"--the girl dropped her nonchalant attitude,--"I meant it when I asked you to forgive me. If I lost your friendship I should lose the greatest treasure I have left." "You won't lose it, poor child," was the response, as the deep color faded from Mrs. Porter's face. "You strain it when you speak so of Bertram, but I have to remember exactly the truths I have been telling you." "That I shall be punished?" "Assuredly, dear child--just as far as you are wrong."