s so potent as to win me from all
hesitation and make as nothing the whole world beside, she did not
understand. I saw that she tried to understand; when she failed, I had
failed also. The flower was dead; what use then to cherish or to water
it? I had not thought it was dead, but had prayed that, faded and choked
though it were, yet it might find life in the sunshine of my love and
the water of her tears. But she did not weep, unless in a passing
petulance because I asked what she could not give; and the clouds swept
dark over my love's bright face.

And now, alas, I am so wise that I cannot weep! I must rather smile to
have asked, than lament that my asking was in vain. I must wonder at her
patience in refusing kindly, and be no more amazed that she refused at
last. Yet this sad wisdom that sits well on age I do not love in youth.
I was a fool; but if to hold that good shall win and a true love prevail
be folly, let my sons be fools after me until their sons in turn catch
up from them the torch of that folly which illuminates the world.

You would have said that she had not looked to see me, for she started
as though in surprise when I stood before her, saying, "You sent for
me."

"I sent for you?" she cried, still as if puzzled; then, "Ah, I remember.
A whim seized me as I passed your lodging. Yet you deserved no such
favour, for you treated me very rudely--why, yes, with great
unkindness--last time we met. But I wouldn't have you think me
resentful. Old friends must forgive one another, mustn't they? Besides,
you meant no hurt, you were vexed, perhaps you were even surprised. Were
you surprised? No, you weren't surprised. But were you grieved, Simon?"

I had been gazing dully at her, now I spoke heavily and dully.

"You wear gems there on your neck," said I, pointing at the necklace.

"Isn't the neck worthy?" she murmured quickly yet softly, pulling her
dress away to let me see the better, and raising her eyes to mine.

"Yes, very worthy. But wouldn't you be grieved to find them pebbles?"

"By my faith, yes!" she laughed, "for I paid the price of gems for
them."

"I also paid the price of a gem," said I, "and thought I had it."

"And it proved a pebble?" said she, leaning over me; for I had seated
myself in a chair, being in no mood for ceremony.

"Yes, a pebble; a very pebble, a common pebble."

"A common pebble!" she echoed. "Oh, Simon, cruel Simon! But a pretty
bright pebble? It looked like a gem, Si