“Tom, I cannot explain. There is something here I cannot explain. I want David to be free of you. That is all.” “So you can have him?--is that all?” “You know that’s a lie!” She was breathing hard with her hurt. He examined her. “Yes: that is a lie. That would be a reasonable reason. Too reasonable for you. I could respect that: even coöperate with it. If there were any chance of success,” For an instant, he had tricked her into stirring toward him. She winced. “You can’t expect me to crucify myself and David for your vague philanthropic folly.” “No, Tom--I cannot.” Then: “Tom, are you altogether frank with me? Do you really think my haunting fears are due to a selfish cause?” “No, Cornelia.” “Do you think, Tom--answer me on your honor--do you think they are really vague and foolish?” Waiting for his word, as he stood silent, she found that she wanted him so to think them. His answer came: “No. They are not foolish. And only we are vague about them.” “Tom!"... She must look out. She was so weak before him. She was ever so near to dangerous pleading. She straightened herself back. “----but since _we_ are so vague, Cornelia? Necessarily so. I call the whole discussion nonsense.” He was flippant over her tragedy: over her life. He was clear-eyed admitting it, and then he was flippant! He stood next to her with his light grace and she hated him. For he was the brother whom she loved. He went and did not for a long time come back. He stayed away too long. But he wrote her a note: _Dearest Sister_: In accordance with my promise, I have urged David to go and see you. I scolded him for a thoughtless friend. He is thoughtless, you know. I have found that out, many a time, to my unhappiness. These books I am sending you I have just read this year and liked. I am sure you will like them also. Lots of love, dearest Sister, and good fortune. TOM. How sure he was of David! How sure he was of her. She saw that he loved her in the same deep confident way of the younger brother whom she had nursed and led. The eternal way. She had unending hurt of this. For how could she deny the call of his love through his little note? And how could she answer it? She was torn. She knew there was now a reason for Tom’s staying away. She wondered if Tom knew how he tore her. But if he had written her coldly, cruelly, would it have been less cruel?... * * * * * Cornelia found herself nursing in her arms a life that she must make to thrive against all hazards: the little life of a great resolve. She looked at it, and gave herself up to it. Dimly she knew that if she held it close enough, and warm, and endless against her breast, it would gain in strength. David must be saved!