all that?" He could not
help being light about it.

"How?" Alice repeated. "Won't it give them an idea of what--what--of how
much--how truly--if we care for each other--how people ought to care? We
don't do it for ourselves. That would be selfish and disgusting. We do
it because it's something that we owe to the idea of being engaged--of
having devoted our lives to each other, and would show--would teach--"

"Oh yes! I know what you mean," said Dan, and he gave way in a
sputtering laugh. "But they wouldn't understand. They'd only think we
were spoons on each other; and if they noticed that I cooled off toward
people I'd liked, and warmed up toward those you liked, they'd say you
made me."

"Should you care?" asked Alice sublimely, withdrawing a little from his
arm.

"Oh no! only on your account," he answered, checking his laugh.

"You needn't on my account," she returned. "If we sacrifice some
little preferences to each other, isn't that right? I shall be glad to
sacrifice all of mine to you. Isn't our--marriage to be full of such
sacrifices? I expect to give up everything to you." She looked at him
with a sad severity.

He began to laugh again. "Oh no, Alice! Don't do that! I couldn't stand
it. I want some little chance at the renunciations myself."

She withdrew still further from his side, and said, with a cold anger,
"It's that detestable Mrs. Brinkley."

"Mrs. Brinkley!" shouted Dan.

"Yes; with her pessimism. I have heard her talk. She influences you.
Nothing is sacred to her. It was she who took up with those army women
that night."

"Well, Alice, I must say you can give things as ugly names as the next
one. I haven't seen Mrs. Brinkley the whole winter, except in your
company. But she has more sense than all the other women I know."

"Oh, thank you!"

"You know I don't mean you," he pushed on. "And she isn't a pessimist.
She's very kindhearted, and that night she was very polite and good to
those army women, as you call them, when you had refused to say a word
or do anything for them."

"I knew it had been rankling in your mind all along," said the girl
"I expected it to coma out sooner or later. And you talk about
renunciation! You never forget nor forgive the slightest thing. But I
don't ask your forgiveness."

"Alice!"

"No. You are as hard as iron. You have that pleasant outside manner that
makes people think you're very gentle and yielding, but all the time
you're like adamant. I would