my heart if you became in any way different
from what you are now."

"But you mustn't break your heart; it belongs to me, and I won't have
you smashing up my property."

"I gave it to you, it is true; but the copyright is still mine. The
copyright of letters that I wrote to you is mine; and I believe the law
of copyright is the same with regard to hearts as to letters."

"Well, anyhow, I've written my name all over it."

"I know you have; and it was very untidy of you, my dearest. Once would
have been enough to show that it belonged to you; but you weren't
content with that: you scribbled all over every available space, until
there was no room left even for advertisements; and now nobody else will
ever be able to write another name upon it as long as I live."

"I'm glad of that; I wouldn't have anybody else's name upon it for
anything. And I'm glad that you like me just as I am, and don't want me
to be different."

"Heaven forbid!"

"But still I was horrid to you once, Chris, however you may try to gloss
it over. My dear, my dear, I don't know how I ever could have been
unkind to you; but I was."

"Never mind, sweetheart; it is ancient history now, and who bothers
about ancient history? Did you ever meet anybody who fretted over the
overthrow of Carthage, or made a trouble of the siege of Troy?"

"No," Elisabeth truthfully replied; "and I'm really nice to you now,
whatever I may have been before. Don't you think I am?"

"I should just think you are, Betty; a thousand times nicer than I
deserve, and I am becoming most horribly conceited in consequence."

"And, after all, I agree with the prophet Ezekiel that if people are
nice at the end, it doesn't much matter how disagreeable they have been
in the meantime. He doesn't put it quite in that way, but the sentiment
is the same. I suit you down to the ground now, don't I, Chris?"

"You do, my darling; and up to the sky, and beyond." And Christopher
drew her still closer to him and kissed her.

After a minute's silence Elisabeth whispered--

"When one is as divinely happy as this, isn't it difficult to realize
that the earth will ever be earthy again, and the butter turnipy, and
things like that? Yet they will be."

"But never quite as earthy or quite as turnipy as they were before;
that's just the difference."

After playing for a few minutes with Christopher's watch-chain,
Elisabeth suddenly remarked--

"You never really appreciated my pictures, Chris.