He had
rarely seen her so kind since their carefree days of boy and girl
friendship, when there had been no barrier of unrequited love between
them.

"Come and sit by the fire, Tom," invited Grace. "I love an open fire on
a dark, rainy day like this." She motioned him to a chair opposite her
own at the other side of the fireplace. Tom seated himself, and the two
began to talk of the wedding, Oakdale, their friends, everything in fact
that led away from the thoughts that lay nearest the young man's heart.
Grace skilfully kept the conversation on impersonal topics. By doing so
she hoped to make Tom understand that she did not wish to discuss what
had long been a sore subject between them. So the two young people
talked on and on, while outside the rain fell in torrents, and the dark
day began to merge into an early twilight.

With the coming of the dusk Grace began to feel the strain. Tom's pale
face had taken on a set look in the fitful glow of the fire. Suddenly he
leaned far forward in his chair. "It's no use, Grace. I know you've
tried to keep me from saying what I came here to-day to say, but I'm
going to tell you again. I love you, Grace, and I need you in my life.
Why can't you love me as I love you?"

Grace's clean-cut profile was turned directly toward Tom. She reached
forward for the poker and began nervously prodding the fire. Tom caught
the hand that held the poker. Unclasping her limp fingers from about
it, he set it impatiently in place. "Look at me, Grace, not at the
fire," he commanded.

Grace raised sorrowful eyes to him. Then she made a little gesture of
appeal. "Why must we talk of this again, Tom? Why can't we be friends
just as we used to be, back in our high-school days?"

"Because it's not in the nature of things," returned Tom, his eyes full
of pain. "I am a man now, with a man's devoted love for you. The whole
trouble lies in the sad fact that you are just a dreaming child, without
the faintest idea of what life really means."

"You are mistaken, Tom." There was a hint of offended dignity in Grace's
tones. "I _do_ understand the meaning of life, only it doesn't mean
_love_ to me. It means _work_. The highest pleasure I have in life is my
work."

"You think so now, but you won't always think so. There will come a time
in your life when you'll realize how great a power for happiness love
is. All our dearest friends have looked forward to seeing you my wife.
Your parents wish it. Aunt Rose