preme;
but, Bessie, I know that there is in me the material for a man,
something like Grey Jerrold. I speak of him because he represents to me
the noblest man I ever knew, and I always feel my inferiority when I am
with him, and show at my worst by contrast. You know what I mean. You
felt his power when he was here; the tone of his voice; the way he put
things; the indescribable something which makes him so popular
everywhere, I don't know what it is. I would give the world if I
possessed it. I have watched him many a time at Eton and at Oxford and
elsewhere, when he was surrounded by a lot of London swells, young lords
and sons of earls, who would cut me dead, but who took to the American
at once and made him more than their equal. Once I asked him how he did
it and if it were not an awful bore always to consider others before
himself. I shall never forget the expression of his face as he hesitated
a moment and seemed to be looking far off at something in the past.
Then he said: 'Sometimes it is hard; but long ago, when I was a boy, I
made a vow to live for others rather than myself, to try to make
somebody happy every day with a kind word or act or look, and only
think, if I live to a good old age, how many people's lives will have
been a little sunnier because of me. Suppose I commenced this plan at
fourteen and that I live to be seventy, which is not very old, it will
make over twenty thousand, and that surely ought to atone for a great
deal--don't you think so?--and in a way my life is a kind of atonement.'
That is what he said, or the substance of it, and I have often thought
of it and wondered what he meant by an atonement."

In his enthusiasm over Grey, Neil forgot for a moment what he had been
saying to Bessie, who had listened intently, and who exclaimed:

"Twenty thousand people happier because of him. Oh, Neil, that is worth
more than the crown of England I wish you--I wish we could be like him."

"You _are_ like him," Neil said, coming back to his original subject.
"You make me think of him so much in your sweet forgetfulness of
yourself and your thoughtfulness of others, and, Bessie, I am going to
try to be like him, too, if you will help me, if you will be my wife, by
and by, when I have made a man of myself, and am more worthy of you.
Will you, Bessie, will you promise to be my little wife when I come to
claim you?"

He had her face between his hands and was looking into her eyes where
the tears were