d lifted up her bright, beautiful blue
eyes to the moonlit skies.

"I want to live," she said, in a trembling voice. "I want to live
like other girls. I--I want to be married, Anne--and--and--have little
children. You know I always loved babies, Anne. I couldn't say this to
any one but you. I know you understand. And then poor Herb--he--he
loves me and I love him, Anne. The others meant nothing to me, but HE
does--and if I could live I would be his wife and be so happy. Oh, Anne,
it's hard."

Ruby sank back on her pillows and sobbed convulsively. Anne pressed her
hand in an agony of sympathy--silent sympathy, which perhaps helped Ruby
more than broken, imperfect words could have done; for presently she
grew calmer and her sobs ceased.

"I'm glad I've told you this, Anne," she whispered. "It has helped me
just to say it all out. I've wanted to all summer--every time you came.
I wanted to talk it over with you--but I COULDN'T. It seemed as if it
would make death so SURE if I SAID I was going to die, or if any one
else said it or hinted it. I wouldn't say it, or even think it. In the
daytime, when people were around me and everything was cheerful, it
wasn't so hard to keep from thinking of it. But in the night, when I
couldn't sleep--it was so dreadful, Anne. I couldn't get away from
it then. Death just came and stared me in the face, until I got so
frightened I could have screamed.

"But you won't be frightened any more, Ruby, will you? You'll be brave,
and believe that all is going to be well with you."

"I'll try. I'll think over what you have said, and try to believe it.
And you'll come up as often as you can, won't you, Anne?"

"Yes, dear."

"It--it won't be very long now, Anne. I feel sure of that. And I'd
rather have you than any one else. I always liked you best of all the
girls I went to school with. You were never jealous, or mean, like some
of them were. Poor Em White was up to see me yesterday. You remember Em
and I were such chums for three years when we went to school? And then
we quarrelled the time of the school concert. We've never spoken to each
other since. Wasn't it silly? Anything like that seems silly NOW. But
Em and I made up the old quarrel yesterday. She said she'd have spoken
years ago, only she thought I wouldn't. And I never spoke to her
because I was sure she wouldn't speak to me. Isn't it strange how people
misunderstand each other, Anne?"

"Most of the trouble in life comes from mis