"Do you think so?" she said doubtfully. "That is an uplifting thought." Then she added in a low voice, "There is one thing more. It is very unworthy, I am afraid, but it is a canker that is eating my heart out. And that is the mortification of it. Can you picture the thing to yourself? Can you form any idea of how I felt? It grows worse the more I think of it." "I know, I know. But, dear child, there is where I am powerless to help you. If I were in your place I think I should feel just as you do. It was a cruel thing. I wonder that you bore it as well as you did." "What! Should _you_ feel that way? Then you do not blame me?" "Why mention blame in connection with yourself? You are singularly free from it. But did you ever consider what an honor the love of such a man as your husband is? Do you know how he is admired by great men? Do you realize how he must love you, and what magnificent faith he must have to wish to marry a young girl like you who admits that she does not love him? If you never do anything else in this world except to deserve the faith he has in you, you will live a worthy life." We were standing still now, and Louise was looking at her husband at a distance with a look in her eyes which was good to see. "You never can love him as you loved the other one. A first love never comes again. Would you want it to? When you love your husband, as he and I both know that you will do some time--perhaps not soon, but he is very patient--still, I say, when you love him you will love him in a gentler, truer way." "Can you tell me why such a bitter experience should have been sent to me so early in life?" "To save you pain later and to make of you what you were planned to be." Tears rolled down her cheeks and she bent to kiss me, for the last mail had been put aboard and we had only a moment more. What she whispered in my ear I shall never tell to any one, but it will sweeten my whole life. As we went towards Mr. Whitehouse Louise involuntarily quickened her pace a little and held out her hand to him with a smile. It was good to see his face change color and to view the quiet delight with which he received her. Then there were good-byes and hurried steps and a great deal of shouting and hauling of ropes, and there were waving of hands and a tossing of roses from the decks above and a few furtive tears and many heart-aches, and then--the great steamer had sailed. XII IN WHICH I WILLINGLY TURN MY FACE WESTWARD "Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in His hand Who saith, 'A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God, see all, nor be afraid.'"