ly ask
you to remember that a man who has failed to do the work that lies
nearest his hand is not likely to succeed at anything else.

"It is not for you to say whether or not anything is worthy when it has
once been given you to do. You have only to do it and make it worthy by
the doing. When you have proved yourself capable, another task will be
given you, but not before. You hate the vineyard because you cannot
raise good grapes, you hate to teach school because you cannot teach
school well. You want to find something easy to do--something that will
require no effort."

"No," he interrupted, "you're mistaken there. I want to do something
great--I'm not asking for anything easy."

[Sidenote: "I Belong Here"]

"Greatness comes slowly," she answered, her voice softening a little,
"and by difficult steps--not by leaps and bounds. You must learn the
multiplication table before you can be an astronomer. None the less, it
is your right to choose."

"Then, granting that, why wouldn't you come with me?"

"Because it is also my right to choose for myself and I belong here.
When I identified myself with the Marsh family, I did it in good faith.
When I was married, I came here, my children were born here, your father
and brother and sister died here, and I shall die here too. When you go,
I shall do my best with the vineyard."

She spoke valiantly, but there was a pathetic little quiver in her lips
as she said the last words. Alden stood at the window, contemplating the
broad acres bordered with pine.

"Do not say _when_ I go, Mother--say _if_ I go."

"I thought you had decided," she murmured, but her heart began to beat
quickly, nevertheless.

"No, I haven't, but I'll decide in the course of the day. Good-bye for
the present."

He stooped, kissed the cheek she turned to him, and went out, assuming a
cheerfulness he did not feel. Madame leaned back in her chair with her
eyes closed, exhausted by the stress of emotion. The maid came in for
orders, she gave them mechanically, then went into the living-room. She
was anxious to be alone, but felt unequal to the exertion of climbing
the stairs.

[Sidenote: The Pictured Face]

As the hours passed, she slowly regained her composure. It seemed
impossible that Alden should go away and leave her when they two were
alone in the world, and, as he said, belonged together. More than ever
that morning had he looked like his father.

Old memories crowded thickly upon her as s