"Ah, dear people," she sighed, "dear people, it is so good to meet you again! I am so grateful to you for coming. The remembrance of this night will be company for me during many quiet days. I shall have much to think over, but at present I am conscious only of one thing--that my prophecy is true, is almost _terribly_ true! We are only faintly beginning to understand the real power of steady, concentrated will. The thing that a man aims for, with a strong, single, undeviating aim, that thing, sooner or later, _a man can have_! So much is certain, but I blame myself for not insisting more upon the initial question. _Is it worth while_? Oh, dear people, so often our ambitions are _not_ worth while. An aim which is to ride dominant over every call, an aim for which all hindrances are to be cast aside, must needs have a spiritual nature, if it is to satisfy a spiritual being. In the days to come, teach your children the importance of this great decision; teach them their power, but be sure, be very sure, to teach them to think long and earnestly, lest in their blindness they choose the dross, and go starving all their days!" John Malham leaned back in his chair, so that his face was in the shadow. Francis Manning's eyes gazed deeply into space. Across the silence broke the harp-like tones of Eve Dempster's voice: "Mrs Ingram, you have gained your own wish. It is written in your face that it was worth while. Will you tell us what it was?" The hostess looked down at her thin, locked hands. Her voice trembled, as she slowly recited her answer, dwelling with eloquent emphasis on one of the earlier words: "I have--Learned--in whatever state I am, therewith to be Content!" The End. End of Project Gutenberg's What a Man Wills, by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey