ood woman! And to
him! Philip felt humble in his exaltation, charitable in his selfish
appropriation. He wanted to write to Celia--but he did not--that he
loved her more than ever. But to Alice he could pour out his wealth of
affection, quickened to all the world by this great love, for he knew
that her happiness would be in his happiness.

The response from Alice was what he expected, tender, sweet, domestic,
and it was full of praise of Evelyn, of love for her. "Perhaps, dear
Phil," she wrote, "I shall love her more than I do you. I almost
think--did I not remember what a bad boy you could be sometimes--that
each one of you is too good for the other. But, Phil, if you should ever
come to think that she is not too good for you, you will not be good
enough for her. I can't think she is perfect, any more than you are
perfect--you will find that she is just a woman--but there is nothing
in all life so precious as such a heart as hers. You will come here,
of course, and at once, whenever it is. You know that big, square,
old-fashioned corner chamber, with the high-poster. That is yours.
Evelyn never saw it. The morning and the evening sun shoot across it,
and the front windows look on the great green crown of Mount Peak. You
know it. There is not such a place in the world to hear the low and
peaceful murmur of the river, all night long, rushing, tumbling,
crooning, I used to think when I was a little girl and dreamed of things
unseen, and still going on when the birds begin to sing in the dawn. And
with Evelyn! Dear Phil!"

It was in another strain, but not less full of real affection, that
Celia wrote:

"I am not going to congratulate you. You are long past the need of that.
But you know that I am happy in having you happy. You thought I never
saw anything? I wonder if men are as blind as they seem to be? And I
had fears. Do you know a man ought to build his own monument. If he goes
into a monument built for him, that is the end of him. Now you can work,
and you will. I am so glad she isn't an heiress any more. I guess there
was a curse on that fortune. But she has eluded it. I believe all you
tell me about her. Perhaps there are more such women in the world than
you think. Some day I shall know her, and soon. I do long to see her.
Love her I feel sure I shall.

"You ask about myself. I am the same, but things change. When I get
my medical diploma I shall decide what to do. My little property just
suffices, with econ