utiful. . . . I wish I had seen that!"

"Yes, but you didn't need it," said Maud; "one sees what one needs, I
think. And I want to add something, dearest, which you must believe. I
don't want to revert to this, or to speak of it again--I don't mean to
dwell upon it; it is just enough for me. One mustn't press these things
too closely, nor want other people to share them or believe them. That
is the mistake one makes, that one thinks that other people ought to
find one's own feelings and fancies and experiences as real as one
finds them oneself. I don't even want to know what you think about
it--I don't want you to say you believe in it, or to think about it at
all. I couldn't help telling you about it, because it seems as real to
me as anything that ever happened in my life; but I don't want you to
have to pretend, or to accept it in order to please me. It is just my
own experience; I was ill, unconscious, delirious, anything you please;
but it is just a blessed fact for me, for all that, a gift from God. Do
you really trust me when I say this, dearest? I don't claim a word from
you about it, but it will make all the difference to me. I can go on
now. I don't want to die, I don't want to follow--I only want you to
feel, or to learn to feel, that the child is a real child, our very
own, as much a part of our family as Jack or Cousin Anne; and I don't
even want you to SAY that. I want all to be as before; the only
difference is that I now don't feel as if I was CHOOSING. It isn't a
case of leaving him or leaving you. I have you both--and I think you
wanted me most; and I haven't a wish or a desire in my heart but to be
with you."

"Yes, dearest," said Howard, "I understand. It is perfect to be trusted
so. I won't say anything now about it. I could not say anything. But
you have put something into my heart which will spring up and blossom.
Just now there isn't room for anything in my mind but the fact that you
are given back to me; that's all I can hold; but it won't be all. I am
glad you told me this, and utterly thankful that it is so. That you
should be here, given back to me, that must be enough now. I can't
count up my gains; but if you had come back, leaving your heart
elsewhere, how could I have borne that?"

XXXV

THE POWER OF LOVE

It was a few days later that Howard found himself sitting alone one
evening after dinner, with his aunt.

"There is something that I want to talk to you about," he said.