e.

As John laid the girl on the bed she muttered, "Lemme alone!" and when he
asked what was to happen to her when she grew old if she behaved like
this when young, she mumbled: "Don't want to be old. Who's goin' to like
me then, d'ye think?"

Half an hour afterward Glory and John were passing through the gates into
Clement's Inn, with its moonlight and silence, its odour of moistened
grass, its glimpse of the stars, and the red and white blinds of its
windows lit up round about. John was still talking rapturously. He was
now picturing the part which Glory was to play in the life they were to
live together. She was to help and protect their younger sisters, the
child-women, the girls in peril, to enlist their loyalty and filial
tenderness for the hour of temptation.

"Won't it be glorious? To live the life, the real life of warfare with
the world's wickedness and woe! Won't it be magnificent? You'll do it
too! You'll go down into those slums and sloughs which I've shown you
to-night--they are the cradle of shame and sin, Glory, and this wicked
London rocks it!--you'll go down into them like a ministering angel to
raise the fallen and heal the wounded! You'll live in them, revel in
them, rejoice in them, they'll be your battlefield. Isn't that better,
far better, a thousand times better, than _playing_ at life, and all its
fashions and follies and frivolities?"

Glory struggled to acquiesce, and from time to time in a trembling voice
she said "Yes," and "Oh, yes," until they came to the door of the Garden
House, and then a strange thing happened. Somebody was singing in the
drawing-room to the music of the piano. It was Drake. The window was open
and his voice floated over the moonlit gardens;

Du liebes Kind, komm' geh mit mir!
Gar schoene Spiele spiel' ich mit dir.

Suddenly it seemed to Glory that two women sprang into life in her--one
who loved John Storm and wished to live and work beside him, the other
who loved the world and felt that she could never give it up. And these
two women were fighting for her heart, which should have it and hold it
and possess it forever.

She looked up at John, and he was smiling triumphantly, "Are you happy?"
she asked.

"Happy! I know a hundred men who are a hundred times as rich as I, but
not one who is a hundredth part as happy!"

"Darling!" she whispered, holding back her tears. Then looking away from
him she said, "And do you really think I'm good enough for a life