understand what she
was doing, even to herself, but--My humiliation is complete and the
only thing that can make me ever hold up my head is to puzzle him by--by
_happily_ marrying Alfred Bennett--and quick!

Of course, he must suspect how I feel about him, for two people couldn't
both be so ignorant as not to see such an enormous thing as my love for
him is, and I was the blind one. But he must never, never know that I
ever realized it, for he is so good that it would distress him. I must
just go on in my foolish way with him until I can get away. I'll tell
him I'm sorry I was so indignant to-night and say that I think it will
be fine for him to take my Billy away from me with him. I must smile at
the idea of having my very soul amputated, insist that it is the only
thing to do, and pack up the little soul in a steamer trunk with the
smile. Just smile, that is all! Life demands smiles from a woman even if
she must crush their perfume from her own heart; and she generally has
them ready.

Oh, Molly, Molly, is it for this you came into the world, twice to give
yourself without love? What difference does it make that your arms are
strong and white if they can't clasp him to the softness and fragrance
of your breast? Why are your eyes blue pools of love if they are not for
his questioning and what are your rose lips for if they quench not his
thirst?

[Illustration: What are your rose lips for]

Yes, I know God is very tender with a woman and I think He understands,
so if she crept very close to Him and caught at His sleeve to steady
herself He would be kind to her until she could go on along her own
steep way. Please, God, never let him find out, for it would hurt him to
have hurt me!

LEAF EIGHT

MELTED

Some days are like the miracle flowers that open in the garden from
plants you didn't expect to bloom at all. I might have been born, lived
and died without having this one come into my life, and now that I have
had it I don't know how to write it, except in the crimson of blood, the
blue of flame, the gold of glory--and a tinge of light green would well
express the part I have played. But it is all over at last and--

Ruth Chester was the unfolding of the first hour-petal and I got a
glimpse of a heart of gold that I feel dumb with worship to think of.
She's God's own good woman and He made her in one of His holy hours. I
wish I could have borne her, or she me, and the tenderness of her arms
was a sacr