you, won't you?"

And because Cecil possessed the indefinable gift which the world calls
charm, Elisabeth straightway overlooked his shortcomings, and set
herself to assist him in correcting them. Perhaps there are few things
in life more unfair than the certain triumph of these individuals who
have the knack of gaining the affection of their fellows; or more
pathetic than the ultimate failure of those who lack this special
attribute. The race may not be to the swift, nor the battle to the
strong; but both race and battle are, nine times out of ten, to the man
or the woman who has mastered the art of first compelling devotion and
then retaining it. It was the possession of this gift on the part of
King David, that made men go in jeopardy of their lives in order to
satisfy his slightest whim; and it was because the prophet Elijah was a
solitary soul, commanding the fear rather than the love of men, that
after his great triumph he fled into the wilderness and requested for
himself that he might die. Nevertheless, it must not be forgotten that
to this lonely prophet it was granted to see visions of angels and to
hear the still small Voice; and that, therefore, there are abundant
compensations for those men and women who have not the knack of hearing
and speaking the glib interchanges of affection, current among their
more attractive fellows. There is infinite pathos in the thought of
these solitary souls, yearning to hear and to speak words of loving
greeting, and yet shut out--by some accident of mind or manner--from
doing either the one or the other; but when their turn comes to see
visions of angels and to hear the still small Voice, men need not pity
them overmuch. When once we have seen Him as He is, it will matter but
little to us whether we stood alone upon the mountain in the wind and
the earthquake and the fire, while the Lord passed by; or whether He
drew near and walked with us as we trod the busy ways of life, and was
known of us, as we sat at meat, in breaking of bread.

As Elisabeth looked at him with eyes full of sympathy, Cecil continued--

"I have had such a hard life, with no one to care for me; and the
hardness of my lot has marred my character, and--through that--my art."

"Tell me about your life," Elisabeth said softly. "I seem to know so
little of you and yet to know you so well."

"You shall read what back-numbers I have, but most of them have been
lost, so that I have not read them myself. I re