“Have you heard Lahlberg?” Cornelia asked her. Dr. Westerling still talked. “Yes.” “Do you care for him?” “I think he is very wonderful,” said Miss Daindrie. In her remark there was specific rebellion against what Dr. Westerling was saying. Cornelia noticed. It proved to her that there was danger after all of the Doctor’s winning.... Suddenly, she said to herself: “_Why do I care?_” She had been watching Miss Daindrie. Now, for the first time, she watched herself to know why she was watching. As she went groping, she understood. For a long time she had walked through a dark cave with a lantern, placing it against the dripping walls, seeking a certain thing.... Sudden, there was her lantern against it, what she sought!--and she recoiled, she withdrew her light, she did not want to see.... With her body strained and her nerves singing against the pull of her will, she lifted her light again, she forced herself to look. She felt it ... in her heart she could have no doubt of it.... Helen Daindrie was meant to make the rescue of David! How clear it was, terribly clear. The one way! She wondered by what painful blessing she had not seen before. She knew that she had seen and had not wanted to see it. It was too bitter, too cruel. Unfair! How could she stand this, who was willing to bear all things? This giving David into the arms of another woman? How could she be sure? How dared she? Reasons had tumbled upon her: knowing was blotted out. Now, what had been dim was clear: what had been so hard, seemed strangely natural and easy. She looked at Helen. She felt her presence. Never had she so felt a life before. Helen was lovely and girlish and strong. She would lead David the way of his dreams, the way of his young gods--they must be her gods also! She would lead him firmly. Her sense of right was clear like her blue eyes. Feeling her there, Cornelia loved Helen Daindrie. Her heart went out to her, her hands pleaded to embrace her. She seemed to hold her face in her trembling hands and to look deep in Helen. Yes: she was lovely, for she was to be the beloved. She was sacred, for it was she who was chosen. Tom’s hold would fall away when once David turned and wanted to move toward Helen. “Bless you!” her eyes said, “God bless you. And do as I want. And love him as he deserves.” How very certain it all seemed to Cornelia! There sat Helen Daindrie, talking, smiling, frowning a little perhaps, and nothing had been said. Nothing had happened. Yet Cornelia was sure that this girl would win David’s love, and win him from Tom and save him.... Win him forever from herself. So let it be. There was no bitterness in her heart. No hurt, it seemed. For all of her was the fullness of her hurt. Her hurt was about her, surrounding her like air. Without it, she must have stifled.