"What is it they don't understand?" he asked, somewhat puzzled. "The blessedness of giving," she returned simply; "the privilege of being able to see and love what is highest and best without hope or thought of return. Some women feel like that." "But not many," he replied, touched by her earnestness, and conscious again of that strange thrill. "No, not many," looking at him gravely. "The great number dread suffering, and fear to enter into the cloud. They let men spoil their lives, and then the disappointment hardens and embitters them; instead of which they ought to go on simply loving, and being sorry, but not too sorry, about things." "But suppose the object is not worthy? You know how often that is the case," he demanded gravely. "Ah, that is the greatest pity of all. There is no trouble like that, to see the degradation of one we love; indeed, that must be terrible!" "Ah, your golden rule of giving will not hold there!" "Why not?" she asked quietly. "I heard a sad story once, when Emmie and I were at Granite Lodge. One of the governesses had had a dreadful trouble. She was engaged for some years to a man who professed a great affection for her, and suddenly the news of his marriage reached her." "Well?" "Well, she staggered under the blow, but she bore it somehow. It would have nearly killed some women. She just took up her life and did the best she could with it. 'I am keeping it all for him,' she said to me once, with such a mournful smile; 'when he wants it, it will be ready for him, but it will not be here.'" "Keeping what?" asked Garth, somewhat absently. "Why the love he had thrown away as worthless," she returned with kindling eyes. "Don't you think the faith of that poor German governess had something noble in it? She had forgotten her own wrongs and his fickleness. In the world to come it should be all right between them." "Wasn't that rather far-fetched?" "Not at all," returned the girl warmly; "those who have sympathy here must have sympathy there. There will be no broken lives in heaven." "No; of course not," feeling himself a little out of his element, but strangely attracted by the eloquence of Queenie's eyes. As for Queenie, she had almost forgotten to whom she was speaking. She was wrapped up, absorbed in her subject; all sorts of deep thoughts stirred within her. These things were true to her, but she felt with a kind of wonder that he did not understand. Perhaps he felt with a young man's reverence the mystery of the world to come. Some men have a great dread of touching sacred things with unconsecrated hands; but Queenie's young eyes had the fearlessness of the eagle, they looked unblenchingly up at the light. What was the use of separating things spiritual from things material in her creed? Love was the ladder that Jacob saw reaching from earth to heaven; evermore there were angels ascending and descending. The doctrine of the communion of saints had infinite readings.