to go where there's healthy
discontent, wholesome competition, natural aspiration--where things
must be bettered, set right, helped. You understand? That is where I
wish to be."

Brisson heard her. "Can't you practise your loving but godless creed
at Shadow Hill?" he inquired, amused. "Can't you lavish love on the
contented and well-to-do?"

"Yes, Mr. Brisson," she replied with sweet irony, "but where the poor
and loveless fight an ever losing battle is still a better place for
me to practise my godless creed and my Law of Love."

"Aha!" he retorted, "--a brand new excuse for living in New York
because all young girls love it!"

"Indeed," she said with some little heat, "I certainly do intend to
live and not to stagnate! I intend to live as hard as I can--live and
enjoy life with all my might! Can one serve the world better than by
loving it enough to live one's own life through to the last happy
rags? Can one give one's fellow creatures a better example than to
live every moment happily and proclaim the world good to live in, and
mankind good to live with?"

Ilse whispered, leaning near: "Don't take any more champagne, Palla."

The girl frowned, then looked serious: "No, I won't," she said
naively. "But it is wonderful how eloquent it makes one feel, isn't
it?"

And to Estridge: "You know that this is quite the first wine I have
ever tasted--except at Communion. I was brought up to think it meant
destruction. And afterward, wherever I travelled to study, the old
prejudice continued to guide me. And after that, even when I began to
think of taking the veil, I made abstinence one of my first
preliminary vows.... And _look_ what I've been doing to-night!"

She held up her glass, tasted it, emptied it.

"There," she said, "I desired to shock you. I don't really want any
more. Shall we dance? Ilse! Why don't you seize Mr. Brisson and make
him two-step?"

"Please seize me," added Brisson gravely.

Ilse rose, big, fresh, smilingly inviting; Brisson inspected her
seriously--he was only half as tall--then he politely encircled her
waist and led her out.

They danced as though they could not get enough of it--exhilaration
due to reaction from the long strain during dangerous days.

It was already morning, but they danced on. Palla's delicate
intoxication passed--returned--passed--hovered like a rosy light in
her brain, but faded always as she danced.

There were snapping-crackers and paper caps; and they put