Robert became very despondent. He no longer took an interest in his work. Mr. Kennelworth finally wrote to Walter in New York, telling him of Robert's lack of interest in business, and that he wondered what had brought such a change in him. Walter, of course, had received letters from Robert about his break with Marie, so he wrote his father frankly and told him to have patience with Robert, that when this love affair passed away, he was sure he would be all right again. Upon receiving Robert's letter, Marie wrote: My dear Robert, This is to be my farewell letter to you. I quote from Solomon, 2:5, "Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples; for I am sick of love." Robert, I would rather have green apples and a stomach-ache, like Solomon says, for I am sick of what you call love. I want you to read St. Paul again, and see if the way you are acting is the way love acts. Paul says that "Love suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth not, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil." Robert, if love is founded on faith and trust, it cannot be jealous. Love is the foundation of understanding, and if you understood me and if I thoroughly understood you, we would be in love yet, and be happy. "Love seeketh not its own to please Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease And builds a heaven in hell's despair." So long as you persist in jealousy and accuse me falsely, how can I go on loving, because you are not the old Robert who first loved me and taught me to love all of these years, and was never jealous before. Love that has been founded on years of confidence cannot change in a moment for another, and my love has not changed to Edward Mason, as you think. I still love you, but you have been wrong in your accusations. I am sending you a little article, "Love," and hope that you may some day see how wrong you have been, and when you do, if you feel that way, write and tell me so. Regretfully, Marie. LOVE The spark of love gives more light than the universe of truth; yet truth is in love, and in order to act the truth, you must make love the truth, for remember that the handshake of friendship, or the kiss and love of an innocent child, will do more to lift a soul to the light than the strongest and wisest argument even when rightly understood. Beyond the boundaries of love no thought ever passed for love is everywhere. Love is a prophecy of freedom, and its song of melody is heard in the rhythmic motion of the ocean. Each "fowl of the air, each fish of the sea, and every living thing that moveth upon the earth" is the manifestation of love, for in their subsistence love has said, "As I create so I provide." Thus in every conceivable thing with form or without, with harmony or with discord--there love is manifested.