"I never knew that a kitchen could be so perfectly lovely," said Madeleine, as they took tea by the little table by the window. "Jane, you are a genius! One opens the gate here with a bubbling feeling that everything in the whole world's all right." "I'm so glad," said Jane; "it's grand to feel that one is a real channel of happiness. I always seem to see people as made to form that kind of connection between God and earth, and that happiness is the visible sign of success, a good 'getting through,' so to speak." "Do you know, the English language is awfully indefinite. That sentence might mean good flowing like water through people, or people so made that good can go through them easily. Do you see?" "Yes, I see. But either meaning is all right. It isn't what I say that matters so much, anyway. It's how you take it." "I took that two ways." "Yes, and both were good. That's so fine,--to get two good meanings, where I only meant one." They smiled together. "Mr. Rath and I were talking about that last evening," said Madeleine, the color coming into her face a little. "Do you know, he's really a very dear man. He's awfully nice." Jane jumped up to drive a wasp out of the window. "You know him better than I do," she said, very busy. "I've known him for several years, but never as well as here." Jane came back and sat down. Madeleine was silent, seeming to search for words. "You were going to tell me a secret," her friend said, after a little. "I know, but I--I can't." Jane lifted her eyes almost pitifully. "Why not?" "I don't feel that I have the right, after all. Secrets are such precious things." "If I can help you--?" "Oh, no, no.--It isn't any trouble. It's something quite different--I--I thought that perhaps I could tell you my thoughts, but--I can't." There was a silence. "There are such wonderful feelings in the world," Madeleine went on, after a little; "they don't seem to fit into words at all. One feels ashamed to have even planned to talk about them. One feels so humble when--" she paused--then closed her lips. Jane put out her hand and took the hand upon the other side of the little table, close. "Don't mind me, dear; I understand." "Do you really?" "Yes." Madeleine's eyes were anxious. "Do you guess? Did you guess?" "Yes." "And how--what--what do you think?" "I think that it would be lovely, only, of course, I don't quite know it all, for I shall never have anything like it." Madeleine started. "Oh, Jane, don't say that." "But it's so, dear." "Oh, _no_." "No, dear,--I can guess and sympathize. But I shall never have any such happiness. It's--it's quite settled." Madeleine left her seat, went round by the side of the other girl, flung herself down on the floor, and looked as if she were about to cry. "Oh, Jane, you mustn't feel so. Why shouldn't you marry?" "I can't, dear; I've debts of my father's to pay, and I'm pledged to my Order." "But they'll get paid after a while." "It will take all my youth."