love for the
uncharitableness of the rest of us."

"That's a nice thought," said Erica. "I have never had much to do with
children, except with this one." And as she spoke she lifted Dolly on
her lap beside Tottie.

"I have good reason to believe in both this kind and that," said
Donovan, touching the dusky head of the dog and the sunny hair of the
child. As he spoke there was a look in his eyes which made Erica feel
inclined almost to cry. She knew that he was thinking of the past
though there was no regret in his expression, only a shade of additional
gravity about his lips and an unusual light about his brow and eyes. It
was the face of a man who had known both the evil and the good, and had
now reached far into the Unseen.

By and by they talked of Switzerland and of Brian, Donovan telling her
just what she wanted to know about him though he never let her feel that
he knew all about the day at Fiesole. And from that they passed to the
coming trial of which he spoke in exactly the most helpful way, not
trying to assure her, as some well-meaning people had done, that
there was really nothing to be grieved or anxious about; but fully
sympathizing with the pain while he somehow led her on to the thought of
the unseen good which would in the long run result from it.

"I do believe that now, with all my heart." she said.

"I knew you did," he replied, smiling a little. "You have learned it
since you were at Greyshot last year. And once learned it is learned
forever."

"Yes," she said musingly. "But, oh! How slowly one learns in such little
bits. It's a great mistake to think that we grasp the whole when the
light first comes to us, and yet it feels then like the whole."

"Because it was the whole you were then capable of," said Donovan. "But,
you see, you grow."

"Want to grow, at any rate," said Erica. "Grow conscious that there is
an Infinite to grow to."

Then, as in a few minutes he rose to go:

"Well, you have done me good, you and Dolly, and this blessed little
dog. Thank you very much for coming."

She went out with them to the door and stood on the steps with Tottie in
her arms, smiling a goodbye to little Dolly.

"That's the bravest woman I know," thought Donovan to himself, "and the
sweetest save one. Poor Brian! Though, after all, it's a grand thing to
love such as Erica even without hope."

And all the afternoon there rang in his ears the line

"A woman's soul, most soft, yet strong."

The