and,
besides, Ethel often spoke of her sister-in-law-to-be, and of the
marriage which would quickly follow her brother's return. That Miss
Treville had apparently remained so faithful, also, had helped to banish
some of Smiles' uncertain feelings concerning her, and she had begun to
hope that some day she might succeed in finding the key to the city
woman's heart and enter the fold of her friendship, for she could not
bear the idea that Donald's marriage might result in Donald's being
estranged from her, or cause a break in their wonderful friendship. Now
her thoughts railed against the woman who had been so unstable, at a
time when keeping faith with those who went, perhaps to die, had become
a nation's watchword. This thought completely superseded the one that
had sometimes been hers--that the woman was not worthy the love of the
man whom she, herself, worshipped. It was like a mother, suffering for
her hurt child, and her lips quivered with suppressed hate. It passed,
and left her almost frightened.

"I guess that I'm still a mountaineer at heart," she whispered, as she
mechanically bowed her head with the others. "I almost feel as though I
could kill her. Poor Donald! He has always been so blindly trusting
where his heart was concerned.... Perhaps Dorothy is right, perhaps he
is better off, if it is true; but if this embitters him, if it spoils
his faith in womankind, I shall hate her as long as I live." Then came
the reflection that the report might not be true. "I shall go and ask
her, myself, this afternoon!"

Smiles arose from her knees, aged in soul.

She had looked forward to this morning with all the eager anticipation
of a child; but now, as she donned the white uniform of a graduate
nurse--the costume which represented the full attainment of the hard-won
goal,--no smile greeted her as she looked at her own reflection in the
glass.

"Donald was right," she murmured. "I am just beginning to realize that
even this fulfilment of my dream is not going to bring me happiness. It
is born of the heart, or not at all." And her mind travelled back to the
letter which she had tearfully penned him after Big Jerry's death.
"Things never happen just as we plan. When we look forward to something
pleasant which we want very much to happen, we never stop to think that
there may be unhappiness mixed with it." A solitary tear ran down her
cheek, and made a moist spot on the front of her new uniform.

The smile, usually s