le
affair. And that reminds me, I saw holes in your black lace stockings
yesterday. Better go and darn them at once. 'Procrastination is the
thief of time.'"

Sara cannot understand.

Blanche Lawrence was married yesterday to Ted Martin. I thought it the
most solemn and sacred thing I had ever listened to--the marriage
ceremony, I mean. I had never thought much about it before. I don't
see how Blanche could care anything for Ted--he is so stout and dumpy;
with shallow blue eyes and a little pale moustache. I must say I do
not like fair men. But there is no doubt that he and Blanche love each
other devotedly and that fact sufficed to make the service very
beautiful to me--those two people pledging each other to go through
life together, meeting its storm and sunshine hand in hand, thinking
joy the sweeter because they shared it, finding sorrow sacred because
it came to them both.

When Sara and I walked home from the church Sara said, "Well,
considering the chances she has had, Blanche Lawrence hasn't done so
well after all."

"Oh, Sara," I cried, "she has married the man she loves and who loves
her. What better is there to do? I thought it beautiful."

"They should have waited another year at least," said Sara severely.
"Ted Martin has only been practising law for a year, and he had
nothing to begin with. He can't have made enough in one year in
Atwater to justify him in setting up housekeeping. I think a man ought
to be ashamed of himself to take a girl from a good home to an
uncertainty like that."

"Not if she loved him and was willing to share the uncertainty," I
said softly.

"Love won't pay the butcher's bill," said Sara with a sniff, "and
landlords have an unfeeling preference for money over affection.
Besides, Blanche is a mere child, far too young to be burdened with
the responsibilities of life."

Blanche is twenty--two years older than I am. But Sara talks as if I
were a mere infant.

July Thirtieth.

Oh, I am so happy! I wonder if there is another girl in the world as
happy as I am tonight. No, of course there cannot be, because there is
only one Walter!

Walter and I are engaged. It happened last night when we were sitting
out in the moonlight under the silver maple on the lawn. I cannot
write down what he said--the words are too sacred and beautiful to be
kept anywhere but in my own heart forever and ever as long as I live.
And I don't remembe