yet there was this to think of, that Porter's
qualities were negative rather than positive. With all of his
opportunities, he was narrowing his life to the pursuit of pleasure and
his love for her. Roger had shirked responsibility toward his fellow
man by withdrawal; Porter was shirking by indifference.

So she found herself, as many another woman has found herself, fighting
the battle of the less fortunate. Roger wanted her, yet pressed no
claim. Porter wanted her and meant to have her.

He had shown of late his impatience at the restraint which she had put
upon him. He had encroached more and more upon her time--demanded more
and more. He had been kept from saying the things which she did not
want him to say only by the fact that she would not listen.

She knew that he was expecting things which could never be--and that by
her silence she was giving sanction to his expectations. Yet she found
herself dreading to say the final word which would send him from her.

The friendship between a man and a woman has this poignant quality--it
has no assurance of permanence. For, if either marries, the other must
suffer loss; if either loves, the other must put away that which may
have become a prized association. As her friend, Mary valued Porter
highly. She had known him all her life. Yet she was aware that she
was taking all and returning nothing; and surely Porter had the right
to ask of life something more than that.

She sighed, and going to her desk, took out of it the letter which she
had received in the morning mail.

She knew that the moment that she announced the contents of that letter
would be a dramatic one. Even if she did it quietly, it would have the
effect of a bomb thrown into the midst of a peaceful circle. She had a
fancy that it would be best to tell Porter first. He was to come back
to dinner, so she dressed and went down early.

He found her in the garden. There were double rows of hyacinths in the
paths now, with tulips coming up between, and beyond the fountain was
an amethyst sky where the young moon showed.

She rose to greet him, her hands full of fragrant blossoms.

He held her hand tightly. "How happy you look, Mary."

"I am happy."

"Because I'm here? If you could only say that once truthfully."

"It is always good to have you,"

"But you won't tell a lie, and say you're happier, because of my
coming? Oh, Contrary Mary!"

She shook her head. "If I said nice things