I could be much of a success in making any
one else happy while I feel so miserable myself."

"This may be just what you need to help you find yourself, my dear,"
Mrs. Thatcher answered, kissing her affectionately. "Oftentimes, when
we are wretched ourselves, we find happiness in giving it to others.
Don't promise me anything, dear child, except that you will think the
matter over carefully, and be prepared to settle it wisely when the time
comes. Let me say again, unless you decide for yourself that your life
will be made richer and brighter by marrying Philip Hamlen, of course I
should not wish you to consider it."

Unconsciously Mrs. Thatcher had touched upon the same argument Merry had
used with herself. The girl had striven for happiness and failed to find
it; she had evolved a creed which called for ideals which she had come
to believe did not exist; she had demanded something for herself before
she thought of giving of herself. In her failure she had proved her
fallacy. The one person who had it in his power to disprove her present
contentions must consider her a visionary without the character to make
the visions real. Romance had already come to him, and having found the
girl too late that chapter in his life was closed. He was happy because
he always thought of others rather than himself. That was the only royal
road after all. There was nothing repellent about Hamlen. He had many
attributes which compelled admiration, and if he once became settled,
that in itself might release the indisputable abilities he possessed to
accomplish the great work which might lay before him. But would marriage
give that to him? Was she the one to bring about the metamorphosis which
her mother so confidently predicted? Would happiness come to her as a
result of giving it to him?

The thoughts and the questions crowded through her mind in such numbers
and with such conflicting incoherence that she could hope to find no
answers. But her decision need not be made now--that one fact remained
clear and she clung to it. Perhaps another day would bring relief.

"I will think it over, Momsie," she promised in a tired voice. "Forgive
me if I haven't seemed considerate. I want to do the right thing, dear,
but it is so hard to know what that is."

"You are a darling!" Mrs. Thatcher cried, kissing her affectionately.
"Don't worry about that. Mother will help you to find out."

* * * * *

XXXII