t of the trials she had undergone was seen
only in the look of womanly dignity and self-control she had acquired.
It was the freshness of girlhood joined to the grace of maturity.

Nothing is more inscrutable than the working of the human will; argument
does not reach it, nor does persuasion overcome it. It holds out against
reason, against interest, against passion; no sufficient motive can be
found with which to control it. On the other hand, it sometimes stoops
in a way that defies prediction; pride is vanquished or disarmed,
resentment melts away like frost, and the resolution that at first
seemed firm as the everlasting rock proves to be no barrier. Nor is this
uncertainty confined to the sex at whose foibles the satirists have been
wont to let fly their arrows.

Feeling is deeper than thought; and as the earthquake lifts the mountain
with all the weight of its rocky strata and of the piled-up edifices
that crown its top, so there comes a time when the emotional nature
rises up and overthrows the carefully wrought structures of the
intellect, and asserts its original and supreme mastery over the soul of
man.

Alice felt sure that every trace of her love for Greenleaf had
disappeared. She looked in her heart and saw there only the memory of
neglect and unfaithfulness. If love existed, it was as fire lurks in
ashes, unrecognized. She had conversed freely with Mrs. Sandford, and
learned that Greenleaf's version of the story was the correct one. Still
the original treason remained without apology; and she had determined
to express her regret for what had happened, to assure him of her
friendship, but to forbid any hope of reestablishing their former
relations. With this intention, she bade him good-morning and quietly
took a seat.

"I did not think that so many days would pass before I should see you;
but now that you have had time to reflect, I hope your feelings have
softened towards me."

"You mistake, if you suppose that giving me time for reflection has
produced any such change."

"Then, pray, forget the past altogether."

"I cannot forget."

"If your memory must be busy, pray, go back to the pleasanter days of
our acquaintance."

"I remember the days you speak of; I shall never forget them; but it is
a happiness that is dead and buried."

"Love will make it live again."

"It is hard to recognize love when it comes like Lazarus from the tomb."

"Still we don't read that the friends of Lazarus were