loving
and one loath, the indifferent one is in the right. Can a tree defend
itself from the hewer's axe? What would avail it, then, to feel pain at
the blows? It is beyond our control to love or not to love, and no
effort that we may put forth can draw love to us when it is denied. It
does not avail us to suffer from unrequited love.

This which I have just said is an article of faith which the doctrine of
experience often contradicts, for there may be mistake, and the one who
does not love may be in the wrong. If only you could wait to see the
beauty which is she before you call her! A year later and Hester may
flower for you in a passionate blossoming; her face may challenge you to
live. A year later and you may find that she is indeed the woman to
guide you and to follow you; her voice a song; her eyes a light in the
day. As yet, you have not gauged her, and you would put her to small
uses. Stand aside, dear Herbert. It will be better.

I have played a surly part. I may be accused of having been to you both
a Dmitri Roudin and an Iago. I beg you to believe that it has not been
easy for me. I have uttered the earnest word, have driven you on by the
goad of friendship, which drives far. I looked upon the days that came
tripping toward you out of the blue-white horizon of time and saw them
gray for a dear woman, gray and silent as the tomb over a dead love, and
heavy hearted for a man who is my son.

Ever wholly yours,
DANE KEMPTON.

XXXVIII

FROM HESTER STEBBINS TO HERBERT WACE

STANFORD UNIVERSITY.
December 15, 19--.

Over and ended. It shall be as I said last night. Herbert, there is no
call for anger; believe me, there is not. I am doing what I cannot help
doing. You have not changed, but my faith in you has, and I cannot
pretend to a happiness I do not feel.

Oh, but I laugh, my very dear one, I laugh that I could seem to choose
to wrest myself from you. Did you at one time love me? That morning of
wild sunshine when you took my hand and asked me to be your wife seems
very long ago. I should have understood--the blame is all mine--I should
have known you did not love me, I should have been filled with anger and
shame instead of happiness. The blame is all mine.

Last night, while you were speaking, I was standing in the window
wondering what all the trouble was about. I could afford to be calm
since I knew I was not hurting you very deeply. At most I was
disappointing a very self-sufficient m