“Then, dear, I want to speak of that terrible time—only for a moment, dear. You mustn’t think I don’t believe what you said. I do! I do! Every word of it, and to prove it to you I shall never speak of it again. But when I’ve shown you that I trust you entirely, some stormy evening, when we’ve had the nicest little dinner together at your rooms, and I’ve given you some coffee, and bitten your cigar for you, I shall put you down before the fire, and sit down in your lap, as I am doing now, and put my arms about your neck so, and put my cheek so. And then I want you, without my asking to tell me why you told mamma that lie, and all about it.” “Dear-heart,” said Peter, “I cannot tell. I promised.” “Oh, but that didn’t include your wife, dear, of course. Besides, Peter, friends should tell each other everything. And we are the best of friends, aren’t we?” “And if I don’t tell my dearest friend?” “I shall never speak of it, Peter, but I know sometimes when I am by myself I shall cry over it. Not because I doubt you, dear, but because you won’t give me your confidence.” “Do you know, Dear-heart, that I can’t bear the thought of your doing that!” “Of course not, dear. That’s the reason I tell you. I knew you couldn’t bear it.” “How did you know?” “Because I understand you, dear. I know just what you are. I’m the only person who does.” “Tell me what I am.” “I think, dear, that something once came into your life that made you very miserable, and took away all your hope and ambition. So, instead of trying to make a great position or fortune, you tried to do good to others. You found that you could do the most good among the poor people, so you worked among them. Then you found that you needed money, so you worked hard to get that. Then you found that you could help most by working in politics, so you did that. And you have tried to gain power so as to increase your power for good. I know you haven’t liked a great deal you have had to do. I know that you much prefer to sit before your study fire and read than sit in saloons. I know that you would rather keep away from tricky people than to ask or take their help. But you have sacrificed your own feelings and principles because you felt that they were not to be considered if you could help others. And, because people have laughed at you or misunderstood, you have become silent and unsocial, except as you have believed your mixing with the world to be necessary to accomplish good.” “What a little idealist we are!”